


Blue Eyes and Dark Skies

by emmy_award



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmy_award/pseuds/emmy_award
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark becomes primary guardian of his baby cousin when its parents die. Through Phil's scrupulousness and love for getting under Tony's skin, Tony meets Dr. Emma Brooks, a fiesty biochemist who is battling her own demons. Over time, Emma not only becomes a member of the team, but also determined to repair Tony and Steve's failed relationship. (OC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> slight language, and I should probably warn you now that this is a smut-free fic; there's some fluff, but no smut (mostly because I can't write it... at all... it's terrible)

Tony didn't glance up from Dummy's internal wiring when he heard the shrill sound of an incoming call over "the eye of the tiger is the thrill of the fight-"

"Mute the phone, JARVIS. Kind of busy."

"Sir, I'm afraid that this a rather important call. You'll want to take it."

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes, keeping the wrench steady. "Tell whoever it is that I'm out. Way out. Like, halfway-to-Venus out."

Suddenly, the music was stifled, and the ringing of the phone grew more pronounced.

Tony could barely suppress his outrage. "What, now even my AI doesn't listen to me? I swear to the large blonde Asgardian, JARVIS, you're getting more and more like Cap every day-"

His AI cut in with an impertinent tone. "Sir, it's the New York City police department, and they claim that this matter requires your urgent attention."

"For the love of Thor, JARVIS, I am not dealing with any more subway rats, and I don't mean the ones with wings-"

Suddenly, a shrieking, infantile cry broke over the intercom, causing Tony to drop the wrench and stare wildly at the speaker that the sound was coming from.

"God, can't anyone get the baby to SHUT UP?" a very different, New Jersian voice barked on the other end of the line. "That thing's been crying for almost an hour." Obviously, JARVIS had patched him through.

"Where are its parents?" said Tony aloud.

"Oh! Mr. Stark! I didn't realize that we had been put through. My name's Valasquez, Officer Valas-"

"Yeah, yeah," Tony cut him off, the baby's wails staring to give him a headache. "Where are the parents? They can usually get the kid to be quiet."

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "Uh… They're dead, Mr. Stark."

Tony felt little to no emotion in response; terrible things happened every day. "And? What does it have to do with me?"

"Um…" There was a rustle of papers, and the clearing of a throat. "The kid in question is the child of David and Charlotte Stark, your cousins."

Tony stared at the far wall, expressionless. The silence stretched.

"Uh, Mr. Stark? Did we lose you?"

Tony cleared his throat quickly and said, "No. You didn't. Why are you calling me?"

"Because…" Again, there was a shuffle of papers. "According to their paperwork and lawyer, you are now the child's guardian. They left him to you in case anything would ever happen to them."

JARVIS came back on the intercom. "Congratulations, sir. You're a father."

Tony blinked and stared at his half-full glass of scotch. "Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

Emma tore her gaze from the shadowed New York skyline when the kettle started to whistle. Unable to contain her sigh, she switched off the gas burner and quickly poured two mugs of thick, bitter coffee (using the fresh grounds, of course). Two sugars and a dollop of cream in one, a thin trickle of milk in the other.

The apartment was made of wood, brick, and dust. It was old and warm, and sat cosily in SoHo. Her mother had been living there for just over four years, but it still didn't feel like home to Emma.

Turning her back on the kitchen, she walked down the hallway to her mother's room and knocked gently on the old, wooden door.

"Morning, Mom. Made you a coffee."

Robin Brooks blinked sleepily and smiled. "Hi, sweetie." She pulled herself up into a sitting position with a slight groan, glancing at the clock. "You're up early."

Emma shrugged, handing her mother the coffee with cream and sugar. "You have an appointment this morning and I want to make sure you get to it on time. I know what you're like before eight A.M."

"Oh?" her mother quirked a little smile and took a sip of her coffee. "And your conclusion is?"

Emma kept a straight face and shook her head teasingly. "Subject A proves to be highly Insufferable and Impossible before the hour of eight a.m. Test Moderator would even go so far as to say that the subject proves to be troll-like, but in the most attractive way possible."

Robin chuckled and shook her head. "My daughter, the biochemist with a biting tongue."

Emma blushed. "Can you be ready to go in twenty minutes?"

"Of course, of course." Her mother took a deep gulp of coffee and smiled. "You always did make it perfectly."

"Thanks. Twenty minutes, Mom, okay?" Emma turned to go back down the hallway, raising her own coffee to her lips. It was all bitterness and unrelenting heat, just the way she liked it.

"Okay, Ems." Robin's reply was lost in Emma's creaking treads.

Emma stepped into her room with a brief sigh, closing the door behind her. Although she loved her mother dearly, she wasn't sure if she was ready for a life back in New York City. The Big Apple had taken a big bite out of her ego, not to mention her career and studies. She had spent the last year and a half in Los Angeles, working for a small, independent scientific journal. The sun had kissed her olive skin and soft brown hair, but New York was sure to turn her paler than a sheet.

God, she thought. Malcolm is waking up somewhere in this city next to a busty, breezy brunette with a tiny waist and huge - . No, stop. You can't think about him, not now. You'll be thirty in less than a month, for crying out loud. You're an adult, Emma Brooks, so you'd better start behaving like one, or this city will eat you alive.

She hugged the mug close to her chest, relishing the warmth. October in New York was famous for bitter winds and piercingly cold nights, and after the warmth of Los Angeles, it was a bit of an adjustment for her to make.

Her room was a small maze of boxes and a few miscellaneous items of furniture, most of it wrapped in packing materials. Emma had been in the city for almost a week, but she hadn't the heart to begin unpacking all of her possessions.

With a small sigh, she shuffled towards her window and took one last look at the peaceful skyline, wishing that she was back on Venice Beach instead of this heavy, dusty city.

~*~

"So, Ems, have you given any thought as to what you'd like to do, like a job? Maybe an internship at the local research lab-"

Emma suppressed a frustrated huff and tried to focus on the traffic. "I don't know yet, Mom. I might see if I can teach. That's really the only thing I can do until I get a grant."

Robin considered, glancing at her daughter. "Are you sure? That doesn't seem very -"

"Look, can we please not talk about this right now? I'm really tired and I haven't had enough time to think clearly about it."

"Of course. No worries, sweetie. I'm just planning ahead, because, well..." she paused and cleared her throat. "Well, you know."

Emma nodded. Her mother's illness was a shadowed topic lurking in the crevices of conversation, and they tried their best not to bring it up. The breast cancer was only at stage two, but these things spread quickly...

"Turn left here, Ems."

Caught unawares, Emma made a sharp, sudden turn. A few cars honked at her, and she swore under her breath before righting the car and continuing down the road. Emma didn't need to meet her mother's concerned gaze to know that she really wasn't okay, that the morning's meeting had made her stomach boil and her head pound, while her mother just sat there and nodded, taking it all in like water. It was all too much, too much for her to deal with all at once.

They opened the apartment door to a ringing phone. Emma frowned at the blasted thing before unbuttoning her coat and heading off to her room.

Her mother glanced at the caller ID: COULSON, PHIL.

"Oh!" Robin smiled before reaching forward and picking up the phone. "Hello? Hi, Phil! I'm not so bad, and yourself?... Good, good! The appointment? Oh, the usual." She glanced at her daughter's retreating frame before adding, "Ems didn't take it too well, though, poor thing. She's had a real tough time moving back here and all. Hmm? Oh, no, she hasn't got a job yet. Well, she's considering her options and all that. Hmm? I'm not feeling worse than usual, but I have an appointment with my consultant in two days to talk about treatment options. But enough about me, what about you? I hear you're in government work now. How's that going? Good? Oh, wonderful! I'm so happy for you!... Sorry, what? Say again?" Robin paused, and her forehead knit in confusion. "Emma's degrees? She's got her PhD in biomedical and chemical engineering from NYU, and a minor in journalism. Why?" Robin paused again, her eyes slowly widening. "R-really? Are you sure? Is he sure? Oh! Okay! Well, um, she can come by tomorrow at ten, if that's okay with Mr. Stark. Sure! Thanks! I'll see you soon, Phil. Bye."

Robin grinned before putting the phone back on its hook and shouting down the hallway: "EMMA! YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!" She ran to her daughter's room and threw open the door. Emma was sitting in the middle of her bed, laptop open to a page about job opportunities at Columbia and her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. There was an open package of regular Toblerone next to her knee.

Emma glanced at her mother and raised an eyebrow. "Hippos took over the White House? You bought me a pet dolphin? Chocolate was discovered to not cause weight gain and actually have regenerative properties?" As she spoke, she broke a piece of Toblerone off its respective chain and popped it into her mouth.

"Hah. No. But... I just got you a job interview!"

Emma choked slightly and coughed a couple of times before regaining her ability to safely inhale. "You're kidding me! Mom, that's great! Where? What? Who?!"

Grinning broadly, Robin announced the news: "Country: the United States of America. State: New York. City: New York City. Borough: Manhattan. Place: Avengers Tower." At this, Emma's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Robin stifled a chuckle and continued: "Employer: the one, the only... Tony Stark."

Emma stared at her mother. "Wh-... What?! Tony Stark, of all people!"

"I know!" Robin hopped up and down a little in excitement. "How cool is that? You get to work for a billionaire!"

Emma chuckled at her Mom's enthusiasm. "Whoa, Mom. Calm down. I haven't even had the interview yet."

"Who cares? Anyways, your appointment's at ten in the morning. Phil will be expecting you!"

Emma frowned. "Phil? Who's Phil?"


	3. Chapter 3

Oscar Tanner sat dolefully in his basket, his big blue eyes staring up at Tony.

"You know," said Tony, staring back at the infant. "This is getting a little unnerving. I mean, are babies known for not breaking eye contact?"

"No, Tony," sighed Pepper. She stirred the baby formula warming in a saucepan on the stove. "He's probably just taking in his surroundings. Leave him be."

But Tony wasn't listening to her. "I wonder..." He pulled a funny face, sticking out his tongue and bugging his eyeballs. Oscar didn't react. Tony tried again with a different face (tugging his cheeks apart with his fingers and lolling his tongue), but yielded the same result.

"Stop it." Pepper thwacked Tony on the shoulder with the wooden spoon, leaving drops of baby formula behind on his athletic, long-sleeved red shirt. He quirked a sassy eyebrow at her in response. "Leave him alone, Tony! I mean it!" She raised the spoon threateningly. Tony smirked, took a step back, and leaned against the island's counter.

"Thank you," sighed Pepper, pulling a baby bottle out of a drawer.

"A baby bottle? Where the hell did you find a baby bottle?"

"Happy had it." Pepper transferred the formula to said bottle. "He's lending it to you until you get a chance to actually go baby shopping, Daddy."

"Har har. I'm letting that slide. The real question is: why did Happy have a baby bottle?"

Pepper screwed on the bottle's nipple and shrugged. "He said his sister's in town, and she has a little girl, so I guess she had a bottle to spare." She handed the bottle to Tony.

"Sure, that's what he says." Tony glanced at the bottle, testing its weight in his hand. More or less the same as a wrench, but filled with cream-colored milk substitute. "You know, I don't think I'm qualified to do this. You- you'd better feed him." He held the bottle out to Pepper.

"And what exactly makes me qualified to feed little Oscar?" She smiled at the baby, who blinked in response.

"Uh, well-"

"If you say that it's because I'm a woman I will bite off your arm."

"Right, okay." Tony cleared his throat, glancing from the baby to the bottle. "Um, Pepper? How... how do I-"

"You probably want to start with picking him up." Pepper glanced around the spotless kitchen. "Hmm. We really need to get him a high chair. Yeah. Pick him up."

"Easier said than done, Miss Potts."

"You do know how to hold a baby, right? Support the head and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he replied, lying through his teeth. Tony frowned, put down the bottle, and reached forward, Oscar watching his every move with those bright blue eyes. Tony slipped his hands under the small, warm body, took a slight, supporting grip, and carefully lifted Oscar out of his basket.

Oscar frowned as Tony readjusted, tucking the baby into the crook of his arm. Then, sure that the baby was settled, Tony nudged the bottle into Oscar's mouth, who looked skeptical before sucking heartily at the formula.

Tony grinned. "Look, Pepper! I got him to eat!"

"Wonderful," she replied, already halfway to the door. "Remember, you'll have to burp him when he's done. Oh, and get ready to change a diaper."

"Hey!" Tony frowned in alarm. "Where are you going? I thought you were going to help me with-" he glanced down at Oscar's huge blue eyes, which were achingly familiar, "-with this small person."

Pepper sighed. "I've still got a few legal matters to sort through with the adoption agency, and besides, you have a meeting in..." she checked her watch. "About ten minutes."

"WHAT? Pepper! I can't have an interview, I've got Oscar-"

"Get used to it, Tony: Oscar's not going anywhere. Oh, and don't even think about rescheduling: this girl's wicked smart. She might just save your ass one day." And with that, she was gone, expensive high heels clacking down the hallway.

~*~

"Sir, might I suggest that you take Oscar-"

"Stuff it, Happy." Tony picked up his pace, trying to outrun his chauffeur, who was holding Oscar with outstretched arms. "Busy, busy, busy. Got place to go, people to see, meetings to-"

Happy cut in, almost catching up to Tony. "Meetings to attend, I know I know-"

"I was going to say skip, but-"

"Sir," JARVIS's voice resonated above them. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Hogan on this one. The child does need you-"

That gave Tony pause. His mind was a blank; What the hell was he supposed to do with a kid? He was Tony freaking Stark, for crying out loud: he could never be a parent... Steve's sharp, penetrating blue gaze passed fleetingly in front of his mind's eye and he shuddered.

Happy took advantage of his boss's silence to gently deposit the baby into Tony's arms. He patted Tony on the shoulder before saying, "I may be your chauffeur, but I am not your babysitter." And with that, he walked back off down the hall, probably to retreat into the luxury comfort seats of his Rolls Royce.

"Huh?" Tony held Oscar up to eye level and peered at him. Oscar stared right back at his adoptive parent, as if expecting something, and let out a small bleating noise, not unlike that of a sheep.

Tony frowned. "What're you looking at, small fry?"

Suddenly, a voice hailed him from a few feet down the hall: "Ah, Mr. Stark. Good to see you." Coulson smirked lightly and gestured to the next room. When did he get there? Tony wondered. "Your interviewee awaits," Coulson informed him.

Stark Tower had a number of levels, and level number two contained the offices and meeting rooms. All part of Pepper's nonsense about the company. God, thought Tony with a little shake of his head, glancing back at Oscar. I really should take a blowtorch to this part when I have the time. Could build Bruce a new lab, or Robin Hood and Maid Marian a new training field.

"Hi, Agent." Tony blinked a little, snapping out of his reverie. He lowered the baby and shifted Oscar to his hip. "So. Who is this chick and why am I taking precious time out of my equally precious day to talk to her? Me and the little guy had one hell of a joyride planned."

Coulson eyed Tony with a hint of distaste. "Her name is Dr. Emma Brooks, and you'll know why in about thirty seconds."

"What?" 

Smirking again, Coulson pulled open the frosted glass door and practically shoved Tony into the conference room. Just as Tony opened his mouth to protest, he caught sight of the famed Emma Brooks.

She was small, with a thin frame that seemed like it could blow away at any second. Her skin held the vestiges of a tan and a few distinctive freckles; her hands were well-trimmed and her hair was resting lightly on her shoulders, a brown dusting of color with a few light hints. Her caramel-topaz eyes greeted him with a dancing grin to match the one on her lips.

She stood up immediately, putting the screen of her iPad to sleep. She glanced at Phil expectantly, then at the baby in Tony's arms. Her grin widened.

And Phil actually looked pleased to see this chick. He never looked pleased, even when they bought burgers for him. Tony couldn't fathom it.

"Dr. Emma Brooks," Phil gestured to her and then to Tony, "meet Tony Stark."

"Hi." Tony extended a hand, which she took in her warm one. He noted what a firm grip she had. "A doctorate and a grant at NASA, huh? And all before the age of thirty? Seems a little hard to believe, if you ask me." 

Emma shrugged. "I don't much care what you believe; I'm here to prove myself, not second-guess myself. Now, who's this?" Emma bent down to Oscar's eye level with a smile. "He's adorable!"

Somewhat taken aback by her bluntness, Tony glanced at Phil, who nodded.

"This is Oscar," he said, glancing down at the baby, who was smiling at Emma. "He's a long story."

Emma glanced up at him, one of Oscar's small hands wrapped around her pinkie, and he could've sworn that she understood, that she knew. "Oh. I see."

Tony cleared his throat and plastered on what he hoped to be a real-looking grin. "Well, uh, if you'll take a seat, then let's get this show on the road."

As Emma went back to her seat at the large glass table, Tony glanced at Coulson. "Agent, a word."

Coulson shrugged and nodded; the pair retreated into the corner.

"What is this?" Tony hissed, shifting Oscar to his other hip. "I don't have any job openings, and I'm not exactly hiring. Pepper takes care of all the company employment, not me!"

Coulson sighed with a hint of irritation. "Pepper's been thinking about doing a monthly publication combining the Avengers and the advancements of Stark Industries, since both of those are so closely linked. Emma here has got her PhD in biochemistry and a minor in journalism from NYU." He glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice and saying, "She's perfect for the job, Tony."

Frustration bubbled in the pit of Tony's stomach. He was dying for a scotch. "This is the last thing I need right now, Agent, and by the way, you can't make appointments without informing me first!"

While the two of them continued bickering in hushed tones, Emma glanced out the window on the far wall (which took up most of the far wall) at the Brooklyn skyline before unlocking her iPad and going back to where she had left off on her program. She keyed in a few more numbers and then hit a button with a sort of finality. Then, she sat back and waited.

Moments later, JARVIS came back over the intercom, putting a halt to the whispered argument. "Sir, it appears that my protocols are being overridden-"

"What?" Tony demanded loudly, almost forgetting that he was holding a small child. "That's impossible, JARVIS-"

"I'm afraid that my mainframe has been overrun. It looks as if-"

Suddenly, JARVIS's well-manicured British voice morphed into a cacophony of what was first Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" to "Today, the weather in Midtown is-" to "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard-" to "I like big butts and I cannot lie-" to "I'm sexy and I know it..."

Tony turned, horrified and gaping, to Emma, who was sitting comfortably back in her chair. Coulson, however, looked like a six-year old on Christmas morning.

"What did you do?" Tony demanded above the techno garble.

Emma shrugged. "Oops."

"'Oops'?" Tony repeated. "You hack into the best security system in the world in front of its creator and you say oops?!"

Emma merely smiled in response.

Tony fought back the urge to snarl. Dammit. This girl was smart. "Hold the baby," he said to Coulson, and didn't wait for a response before shoving Oscar into his hands. "Tell me. Right now. How the hell did you do that?" He leaned forward over the table, pressing his fingertips into the thin glass tabletop.

Again, Emma shrugged.

Tony's eyelid twitched. He hated not being one-up on this girl. "You're a freaking biochemist. How the actual hell does a biochemist suddenly become a coding wizard?"

"I dabble." Emma picked up her iPad and went back into another program, typing in a command. Seconds later, a switchboard appeared under her fingers. She glanced up at Tony before sliding a few switches and pushing a few buttons.

Out of nowhere, the lights started flickering on and off, the music switched to a new track ("Sweet Dreams" by the Eurithmics, if Tony wasn't mistaken), and Tony distinctly heard the sound of his robots and systems coming to life on the floor below in his lab.

Surprisingly, Oscar had remained mute throughout the entire exchange, and just stared at Emma before making a small baby coo.

Flabbergasted, Tony could only stare at this girl. Quietly, Coulson came up behind him and placed Oscar on the table, not half a foot away from Tony's right arm. The baby sat up, gauging his new father's next move.

"All right," said Emma, going into the program and hitting another button. Everything immediately went back to normal, and the sudden silence pinged in their ears. She chuckled a little at his expression before saying, "I'm glad I finally have your undivided attention."

Tony made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Suddenly, slow clapping could be heard from the ceiling's ventilation. They all glanced up to see Hawkeye poke his head out of the nearest grate, a huge grin on his face. "I don't know who you are, brunette chick, but you are definitely my new favorite person."

"HAWKEYE!" shouted Tony. "What have I told you about hiding in my vents?!"

But he was too late - the archer was already gone, his cackle echoing down into the room.

Emma sensed that this was a bit too much for Tony, so she handed him her iPad, all of her programs open on the screen. "Here. Your system could use some improvements."

Tony took the iPad, his mouth hanging open slightly. He scrolled through the programs for a few moments before looking up. "How did you come up with this?"

"Uh... You were late, and I got bored."

Tony glanced back at Coulson to see if he was buying this. Coulson gave him a look as if to say, 'I told you so.'

Tony stared at Emma, who seemed a little unnerved by his irregular behavior. "I'm not sure whether to have you arrested and court martialed or to hire you."

Emma quirked an eyebrow. "I'll have the latter, if that's okay with you."

Suddenly, Oscar screwed up his face into an impressive frown and let out something between a grunt and a wail.

Tony jumped as if electrocuted. He looked first at Coulson then at Emma. "Make it stop."

Coulson looked speechless. "I don't-"

Emma sighed before reaching forward and picking up the baby, who instantly stopped making the noise and reached for a lock of her hair. He started giggling and then abruptly frowned. She shook her head when she realized what was wrong, and she started to burp Oscar, who looked very relieved.

Tony's eyes got even wider, and he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't going crazy. Oscar was in love with this girl, and was behaving perfectly. Plus, she knew what she was doing.

"Okay," he said loudly, getting her attention. "How does this sound? Lab assistant -slash- technological consultant -slash- head of the new publication project -slash- live-in babysitter?"

"Um," she stuttered, overwhelmed. "Sure. That sounds perfect."

Tony nodded, still shocked. "Cool. You'll start on Monday. I'll have Pepper send you all the details-"

Suddenly, the door banged open, revealing a harried-looking Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov, and Thor.

"Please tell me you were playing Eurithmics so I know that I'm not going crazy," said Bruce, his glasses askew.

"And explain why Dummy somehow got out of his pen and sprayed fire extinguisher foam all over our living room," added Natasha, who didn't look very pleased.

"Oh!" Thor caught sight of Emma. "There's a lady here! Hello, lady!" He grinned and waved at her.

Emma smiled and waved back, but didn't let go of Oscar, who was dozing slightly.

"Guys, calm down. It was just a security snafu." Here he caught Emma's eye and smiled. "It's all taken care of now."

"Who's the girl?" asked Natasha, jerking her head at Emma.

"Everyone, this is Emma Brooks." Tony walked over to her side, hand extended. "Welcome to the team, Emma. It's going to be one hell of a ride."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! I hope that you're liking the story :) I went back and changed a few things - minor things - so it's probably worth skimming the past chapter. Oh, and I should mention that this work is finished, so I'll probably have the entire thing posted within the next day or so.


	4. Chapter 4

"And this," Tony keyed in a code and unlocked the door, "is the lab."

Emma felt her jaw drop as she stepped in. The room was massive, the walls a bright, shining white. Steel chrome lined certain areas, showing off supposedly impressive hubcaps and pictures of cars. The rest of it was filled with workbenches after workbenches, all of them littered with tools, blueprints, lab equipment, and scraps of unfinished projects. Just three days after seeing the small corner of the Tower that was her interview room, this was enough to make her double-take.

Bruce glanced up from where he was working with a couple of test tubes, not ten feet away. He smiled and waved a rubber-gloved hand. Emma waved back, her head in a bit of a whirl, and hitched Oscar further up her hip.

"Wow." Emma spun around slowly. "And I get to work in here?"

"Yeah. Sometimes. If you'd like." Much to Tony's surprise, he seemed a little shy about the whole thing. Maybe he was worried it wouldn't impress her, although that couldn't've been it. Tony Stark made it his job to impress, no matter the cost or the stakes.

"Sir," JARVIS's voice pinged in, "Mr. Hogan would like you to know that all of Miss Emma's luggage has been brought up to her room and her briefcase is on her desk."

"Thanks." Tony glanced up at the ceiling before heading over to the kitchenette in the corner. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Scotch?"

Emma choked on a laugh. "I'm fine, thanks. Scotch at ten a.m.?" she asked him, setting Oscar down in a small wooden playpen purchased by Pepper, who'd taken all of the baby essentials under her wing. They were prepared to handle a whole army of babies. These pens were all over the house to minimize the chances of Tony dropping Oscar when he was distracted by a shiny new invention.

Tony shrugged and suddenly looked much more tired and drawn. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

Emma shook her head at him and headed over to Bruce's lab table. "What're you working on, Dr. Banner?"

He let out a small uncomfortable chuckle and said, "Please. Call me Bruce, Dr. Brooks."

Emma smiled. "All right, Bruce, but only if you call me Emma. Want to tell me what's going on here?" She peered at the test tubes, which contained some sort of clear solution and different samples, all of them a chiefly blue fibrous tissue.

"I'm running different decomposition tests on varying bits of Chitauri flesh, each one from a different region of their body." The corner of Bruce's mouth hinted at a restrained grin as he tugged off the rubber gloves. "Things have been a little slow around here, actually. The genius over here has had a bit of a block lately-"

"Shut it, Banner," said Tony with a glower. "Every artist has his bad days." Emma noticed that his glass contained twice the usual amount of Scotch.

"Oh, and that bracket includes multi-millionaire eggheads?" Bruce shot back.

"That's multi-billionaire, sweetheart. Better get your facts right if you're going to insult me."

Their banter was interrupted by a thin bleat. Oscar was holding himself up with the bars of his cage, looking thoroughly displeased.

"Come here, sweet boy," Emma smiled at him, going back across the room to the playpen. The instant she picked him up, his mouth broke into a wide grin. "Let's go see what Uncle Bruce is doing."

Bruce chuckled at the nickname but edged away. Emma could that tell he was uncomfortable around Oscar, and she guessed it was because he didn't trust himself and/or the Other Guy around such a fragile being.

"Here." Emma smiled reassuringly at Bruce and picked up a wooden high chair that matched the playpen. It was light and simple, so it was easy to carry. Crossing the lab, she plunked it down next to Bruce and pulled over a metal stool of her own.

"There. That makes things better, doesn't it, Oscar?"

He cooed and dug a small finger into the flesh near her collarbone. She guessed that was a yes.

Bruce scooted even further away when Emma lowered Oscar into the high chair, causing both her and the little guy to stare disbelievingly at him.

He said nothing and looked down at a sheet of figures, pen in hand.

"Bruce?"

"Mmm?"

Emma lowered her voice. Tony was at his own workstation, glancing at Dummy's wiring. After the incident on Friday, he was trying to find a solution to Dummy's excessive extinguishing problem. "You need to start trusting yourself more, Bruce. Nothing's going to get any better if you don't."

But he shook his head. "You can't trust me. You just met me."

Emma shrugged. "Tough. I do. And so does Oscar. Look."

He did, and shock was instantly written across his face. Oscar had his hands outstretched, imploring the scientist to pick him up.

"Ever held a baby before?"

He remained mute and shook his head, staring at Oscar.

Emma reached over, lifted up the baby, and stood up. She came over next to Bruce, who was both petrified and curious, and gently lowered the baby into his arms.

"Keep him tall," she instructed, adjusting his angle. "Oscar likes to see everything. Don't forget to support his head, though."

Once Bruce found the perfect grip, he relaxed some and drew a large grin from Oscar. "Aren't you a sweet little thing?" he muttered, extending a light finger to trace the baby's cheek.

Suddenly, there was a terrific crash from Tony's end of the room. The computer screens around him scrambled in response, as if they had reactions of their own. Somehow, he'd managed to knock over both his glass and a massive tool box. Fuming, he let out a tremendous string of swear words at the top of his lungs. Emma ran over with a gasp and began trying to pick the tools out from among the broken glass.

Then, a whole other sound started. Oscar began to wail, very upset by his new father's inability to keep things nice and quiet.

Bruce jumped violently, his eyes wide. "Oh, God!"

Emma straightened up with a groan and ran back to his side, leaving behind a very angry Tony. "Oh, no! I'm not sure what to do! He's never gotten upset with me before!"

"Thanks, Emma!" came Tony's truly offended reply.

"I didn't mean you! I just- oh, forget it! I guess we… I don't know! Distract him?"

"How?" Bruce demanded as the wailing grew to a new height. Oscar's face was bright red, and a solitary tear ran down his cheek.

"The ink, Bruce!" It was Tony again from where he was trying to clear up the mess. "Use the ink!"

Bruce's face lit up and his free hand scrambled, searching among the debris on his desk. He found what he was searching for: a small plastic bottle with a dropper-nib. He pulled over a sheet of blank paper and shook the bottle.

"Ink?" Emma asked, lost.

"Watch!" Bruce squirted a large drop of ink on the paper. "Watch, Oscar!" he said to the baby, directing his attention to the paper. Suddenly, the blot began to fade, until it disappeared altogether.

Oscar's wailing kicked down a notch or two; he was very confused and intrigued by the ink.

Relieved that this was working, Bruce repeated the blot, this one larger than the last. Sure enough, it stayed put for a moment or two before beginning to fade and finally disappearing.

Now Oscar well and truly stopped crying, and even let out an appreciative gurgle.

"For heaven's sake, Banner!" Tony's annoyed voice rose again. "Don't use it all! That's just the prototype, and I don't want to mix it up again!"

Bruce nodded and squirted a final drop on the paper before putting the bottle away. He perched Oscar's legs on his knee, allowing the baby to "stand" and watch the ink. Oscar stared at the ink drop with wide eyes, and his mouth formed a perfect O when it disappeared. He twisted around to face Bruce, completely in awe of the scientist's ability to make permanence disappear.

Emma chuckled. "He likes you, Bruce. What's the ink for?"

"The army," Tony cut in, leaning against Bruce's lab table, a new glass of Scotch in his hand. Emma glared disapprovingly at it. "They wanted a prototype of invisible ink for their printed instructions so they could be used without fear of intrusion or duplication."

"And how can you read it?" Emma asked, looking at the blank paper. Bruce's attention was on Oscar: the scientist was grinning and talking softly to the baby, occasionally poking him on the stomach.

Tony swallowed a large mouthful of Scotch. "Film developing fluid."

"What, really?"

Bruce nodded and reached for another bottle identical to the first one, but this one was filled with a clear liquid. He squirted the developing fluid liberally onto the paper, and the massive ink splotches came to light within a few seconds.

Emma nodded. "Impressive."

"I know." Tony shot her a cynical grin before taking another large sip.

All right. Emma had had enough of this. She snatched the glass away from Tony ("Excuse me? What? What are you doing? That's a single malt! Over a hundred years old! Collector!"), went into the kitchenette, and dumped the Scotch down the sink.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tony closed in on her, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "What are you doing?"

"Making you a much better drink than that Scotch. Honestly. Don't you ever get bored of drinking it? I sure would." She shot Bruce a knowing look before delving into the fridge for orange juice and soda water.

"So would I, sir," JARVIS chimed in.

"Not helping," Tony snarled at his AI, who wisely shut up.

Emma grabbed a glass and filled it with two-thirds orange juice, one-third soda water, and stirred it thoroughly. "Here. I guarantee that you'll like it more than boring old Scotch." She held it out to Tony with a quirked eyebrow and then said the magic words: "I dare you."

Tony snorted before taking the glass. "Yeah, right. Nothing's better than Scotch. Especially that exceptionally smooth single malt you just introduced to the New York City sewage system." He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed a decent mouthful.

The silence hung there like fog, and Emma could hear the painful ticking of the clock on the wall (probably Pepper's idea, to make the lab more homely; Tony didn't give two farts about the time). She glanced at Bruce, who looked just as wary as she felt.

Tony blinked and looked her briefly before: "Holy mother of God, that's good. More. Give me more! Now! This god demands his nectar and ambrosia!"

Laughing, Emma nodded as Tony glugged the rest of the juice drink and shoved the glass at Emma. Chuckling, Bruce brought Oscar over to the kitchenette, and soon all of them were drinking Emma's made-up concoction and trading opinions on string theory.

Bruce caught Emma's eye as Tony played 'This Little Piggy' with Oscar. The scientist nodded once, allowing himself to smile his thanks. She smiled back, glad that she could snap Tony out of his mood.

~*~

"So," Emma said as she and Bruce ascended the stairs to the Avengers' communal living room. The lab was designed like Tony's Malibu one, probably to make him feel more at home. "Has it always been this bad?"

Bruce shook his head and tucked his glasses into his chest pocket. "As far as I can tell, he's always had a thing for alcohol, but it's gotten much worse ever since Steve broke up with him."

"Steve Rogers?" said Emma with faint surprise. She shifted Oscar to her other hip and paused her ascent. Bruce copied her, not wanting the others to overhear their conversation. "He's not here, is he?"

Bruce's mind whirled furiously; could he trust her? No, he barely knew her. But she knew Phil, and Phil trusted her, so didn't that count for something? "No," he said warily, figuring that if he was making a big mistake Tony could find a way to carefully erase Emma's memory, "he's not. He's been on a mission in the Amazon for almost a month now. A long-term deal, massive national security thing. I could go on, but I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. So, yeah. They had a thing, and I thought it was going really well, I mean, you should've seen them together. Picture-perfect couple. Holding hands, pet names, and so much sexual tension you could puke… I'm not sure what broke them up, because Steve never volunteered any information, and well, talking to Tony about anything to do with emotions is like talking to a brick wall."

Emma nodded, soaking in the information like a sponge. "Interesting…"

"Emma." Bruce had a cautionary tone to his voice.

"What?" she said innocently.

"Don't get any ideas! I know a scheming face when I see one, even if it's cute."

That sent Emma way off-balance. Wait. What? Was Bruce Banner… flirting with her?

He seemed surprised at his own words, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually said that.

"Anyway," she said quickly. "No chance of them getting back together?"

Bruce shrugged, somewhat mortified. "I really don't know. Steve ended it just before he left, so that was tough. Tony is still obviously not taking it too well, as you can see. I've never seen him so strung-out before. It's not as if he was a total snooze-bucket before, but I don't think he's slept in at least two days, maybe even three."

Emma shook her head in disapproval. "God. Poor thing. I'll see what I can do about that."

"Be my guest. It's like trying to get a toddler to eat nothing but vegetables for dinner."

"Great! Something I'm good at!" Emma grinned at him before going up into the living room. After a small chuckle, Bruce followed her.

"So then," Tony was in the middle of telling a joke, "Aristotle says, 'We are what we repeatedly do.' And then, Plato says, 'Well then, I guess I'm your mom!'" He collapsed into laughter, but Natasha Romanov's face was quite blank.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't-"

"Tasha doesn't do jokes, Tony," said Clint Barton, jumping down from an unseen perch somewhere close to the ceiling. "Hey!" The marksman's face suddenly broke into a smile. "Isn't that the girl from last Friday? The one who hacked into your mainframe and started playing Eurythmics?"

"Yes, Barton, and thank you for spoiling a perfectly good joke." Tony's glower was back. "I'd better introduce you to everyone, Emma-"

"Here," said Bruce. "Let me take Oscar." He took the baby into his arms, making sure to prop him up enough so the baby's big blue eyes could see everything.

"Aw, look at the big Bruce Banner," said Hawkeye in a mocking, goofy tone. "He's holding a sweet wittle baby!"

Tony cleared his throat pointedly. "Anyway… Everyone, this is Dr. Emma Brooks. She's our new technological assistant, publications supervisor, and live-in babysitter. Emma, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Emma." Tony paused, his forehead wrinkling, and Emma wondered if it was because of the absent Steve. But no: "Wait, this isn't everyone. Clint: where's the big guy?"

"Here!" boomed a sudden, grand voice. Thor came stalking into the room, looking thoroughly out of character in a Yankees sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He was agitated. "My friends, we are in the gravest of circumstances."

"Why? What's wrong?" Tony demanded. He really wasn't in a save-the-world mood.

Thor held up a small blue box. "It appears that we are out of Pop-Tarts."

~*~

With Oscar settled down for his nap, the assassins in the middle of a training session, Thor tucked into Harry Potter (he was delighted by the magic), and Tony waist-deep in new upgrades for his suit, the Tower was quiet as Emma and Bruce wandered up to her room.

Surprisingly, Emma's outreach and charm had nudged Bruce out of his shell. He chatted comfortably with her about his Chitauri research with a schoolboy-like air of excitement. It wasn't much in the way of real science, but alien DNA was fascinating nonetheless.

"Oh, um," he stuttered when they arrived at her door. "We're here."

Emma smiled and nodded. "Indeed we are."

"Well, uh, enjoy it," Bruce replied with a small smile of his own, "the rooms here are crazy. Good luck with all of the technology. Took me weeks to figure it all out."

"If worse comes to worst, I can just hack in again and change things to my liking." Emma held up her iPad to show that she was dead serious.

"True. I'll, uh," Bruce began to back away, making for the stairs. "I'll see you at dinner, then. Phil said he wants your first night here to be as thoroughly non-crazy as possible, so he's bringing in some Indian food. You game?"

"Very!"

"Emma…" Bruce paused. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you do it? I've looked at his system. It's flawless."

Emma smirked. "Not as flawless as he'd like to think. And it's a secret… for now."

"Right, right." He couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. "See you, Emma."

"See ya!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more mild language in this one, but nothing too bad.

Tony glanced up as Emma walked into the lab, iPad in hand. She paid no attention to him, humming quietly to herself as she sat down next to him at his lab table and began sorting through her email.

Tony caught himself staring at her, incredulous. Where did she get the balls? Sitting at his lab table, uninvited? He felt an angry burn in his gut that had nothing to do with the Scotch sitting next to his small pile of notes. He forced himself to look back down at the small piece of the suit he was retouching, biting his tongue. He shouldn't say anything, he shouldn't say anything...

But he had to say something. The past week and a half had been ridiculous. Emma had taken to replacing his Scotch every time, either with water or one of her stupid orange fizzy drinks. That was annoying enough, but she'd also taken to rearranging his entire life.

Every morning, she was literally dragging him out of bed, bright and early, and pulling him downstairs for breakfast with Oscar. And then she'd set him to work with Bruce or with her; there was hardly a moment when he was left alone. Then, they would have a communal lunch (still minus Steve), then play time with Oscar, some more work, dinner, sometimes a movie, then bed.

Hell, even his bedroom was clean. Spotless, for the first time in... ever. She and Pepper were firm friends, had been from the start, and were getting quite the kick out of seeing Tony put in his place.

He knew better, though; he'd done a background check on her. Everything. Every little fact, detail, and embarrassing photo.

He knew why she was here, and why she'd gone out to LA in the first place.

Coming out of the past for a total of three seconds, he noticed that his Scotch was gone, an Orange Fizzy in its place. Emma appeared unmoved, legs crossed demurely, eyes fixed on the screen of her iPad.

Tony felt a spike of annoyance; what made her so superior to him? She was a workaholic, just like him; it was why that guy Malcolm had dumped her in the first place and went for her hotter, smarter best friend. Hell, in any case, Tony would've done the same.

Shit, Tony thought, don't think about that.

Abandoning the circuitry, he reached for a blue cluster of spreadsheets that detailed his upgrades to the suit within the past month. He was flipping through the pages, fingers sweeping the air, when Emma pulled the piece of the suit toward her, away from Tony's reach. She made a disapproving noise in her throat and reached for a precision tool. She began poking at a few of the wires, bent carefully over her work.

Tony flicked away the spreadsheet, clearing the air. That had never happened before. He continued to stare at her profile, but she was oblivious, focused instead on improving the wristband of his suit.

He pushed his lab stool away from the table with a loud screech, picking up the glass of Orange Fizzy and walking to the drawing board, which was sitting against the far wall (one of Bruce's necessities; Tony hadn't used a drawing table in ever). Taking a sip of the infuriating (although delicious, he had to admit) concoction, he leaned against the drawing board and continued to stare at Emma. She had had no reaction to his departure, and was still staring down at the wristband as if he didn't exist.

Putting down the glass and trading it for a metre stick, he said, "Need any help?"

Emma finally looked up, and it took her a few seconds to absorb what he had said. "Pardon?"

Tony twirled the metre stick in his hands like a drumstick; it felt good to hold something without dropping it for once. "I was just wondering if you needed any assistance with improving my suit."

"Oh, no," she said with a shake of her head and a small smile. "No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Oh, you're fine! That's good, that's good." Tony pushed himself off the edge of the drawing table, spinning the metre stick in one hand. "I just figured, you know, that because I'm the one that invented the suit and all, that I could help a little. There isn't any technology in the world like it. Not something that you would have seen in grad school." This last remark was biting, and Tony felt prickles of hot anger in his stomach.

Emma frowned slightly and put down the tool.

"You perplex me, Emma," Tony continued, stepping closer to the drawing board, the metre stick like a baton in his hands. "You were a grad student at NYU with a dream, a dream so unattainable that you threw yourself into your work at NASA, effectively neglecting your boyfriend and sending him straight into the arms of your better-looking best friend. Then you come here, waltzing in like you own the place-" he punctuated every word by tossing the flat metre stick from the back of one hand to the other, "and you have the audacity-" he caught the stick and pointed it at her, his eyes narrowed, "to tell me what to do." His eyes widened. "How interesting."

Emma said nothing, but her gaze was intense and calculating.

"Tell me, Emma." Tony took a languid step forward. It was a nice change, feeling more in control than before. "Was any of that coding actually yours? Or did you just take it from some smart undergrad that you paid for his talents?" Tony paused before continuing. "I don't get you, Emma. I don't get what you're trying to do here. Actually, that's a good question." He stepped to the edge of his work table, staring down at her. "What are you doing here?"

Emma remained silent. She nudged the wristband away and blinked several times.

"What's the matter?" Tony asked her. "Cat got your tongue? 'Cause that would be a first."

"No, Tony," she replied. "But I don't understand what-"

"I'm asking you," he interrupted, "what you're doing to me. With the Scotch and this orange juice drink, and keeping me to this schedule. I mean, it's hardly your place."

"I know," she snapped, suddenly looking very tired. "I don't know what I was thinking. Obviously, you can't get a tiger to change its stripes."

"No, I don't care about that." Tony paused. "I just want to know why. That's the only thing I don't understand."

Emma paused before answering, staring hard at the table top. "Look, my mom's sick, okay? That's kind of why I came back to New York. But now, she's hardly letting me take care of her, insisting that she's fine and getting by, and all that. That's part of the reason I'm here; she wanted me to get a job, be out of the house as much as possible. I don't know why; I only wanted to help her, but she seemed kind of bothered by me, to be honest. So I guess I sort of channeled all that get-better energy into you." Emma shrugged. "You seemed lost, so I tried to find you."

Tony shook his head. "Of all the ridiculous- look, Emma. If someone's lost, they have to find themselves, okay? They can't be found by someone else."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "Sorry, I'll stop interfering."

Tony grunted, surprised at his next words: "Don't worry about it."

Emma looked up. "Pardon?"

"Well, obviously, me not drinking Scotch all the time is making me better," Tony said hurriedly, unable to believe that he was admitting this, "and the schedule is actually making me into a productive genius instead of just a sporadic one. And it's good for me to be spending so much time with Oscar." He shrugged, staring at the table top. "He needs me now, which is not something I'm used to."

There were a few moments of silence, the two scientists absorbing each other's words.

"I'll stop interfering so much, Tony," Emma said eventually. "I'm sorry about what I did. It really wasn't my place."

Tony nodded.

They were quiet again, the silence somewhat awkward.

"Do you think..." Emma glanced up at Tony. "We can be friends now? Equals?"

Tony considered before nodding. "Yes, yes we can."

~*~

Bruce walked in not half an hour later to tell Tony and Emma that it was time for dinner; they hadn't responded to any of his IMs or messages over the intercom system. When he opened the door to the lab, it took him a few moments to absorb the situation before him:

Emma and Tony were charging around the lab to a very loud rendition of "Let It Rock" by the Rolling Stones, shouting and swinging metre sticks like they were light sabres. Emma's usually pristine appearance was disheveled, her button-down half-untucked, the seam of her skirt slightly torn, and her hair flying out of its bun in chunks. Tony's shirt sleeves were extremely stretched and almost torn, and he was sweaty, his eyes wild.

Tony charged after Emma, the pair of them leaping up onto the sofa in front of the TV. They pulled back their metre sticks, about to go in for the kill.

"STOP!" Bruce shouted. "STOP IT!"

Emma and Tony halted, panting, frozen in their about-to-swing stances. They stared at Bruce, caught in the act.

Bruce shook his head, struck dumb. "What are you doing?"

Emma and Tony locked gazes before looking back at Bruce. "Uh," said Emma, "letting off steam?"

Bruce looked to Tony. Tony shrugged.

Sighing, Bruce said, "All right, children. That's enough. Time for dinner."

Emma and Tony dropped the sticks with a loud clatter and hopped down from the sofa, blushing slightly.

"Honestly," said Bruce, shaking his head as they filed past him out of the lab, "I leave you alone for less than an hour and you turn into wild animals..."

~*~

"And then I said," Barton choked, wiping away a tear, ""I'm not Cupid, but I'd love to shoot you in the butt!"" He doubled over with laughter while the rest of the table howled, slapping their knees and the table in mirth.

"All right," chuckled Natasha. "I have to admit, that was pretty funny."

"Yes!" Thor wiped his eyes. "Your story was especially amusing, Clint. You know, Steve would have loved that joke-"

Everyone at the table (except for Tony) silenced him with a glare, and a conversation about their speculations regarding Coulson's girlfriend was hurriedly struck up.

Tony's expression was impassive, giving away nothing. Staring hard at the dining table's glass top, he hastily finished off his Orange Fizzy before excusing himself. He caught a few hurried whispers as he went upstairs, things like, "Thor!" and "I told you not to-!" and "Great job, guys. He'll be unbearable for the next-"

His footsteps heavy, Tony shoved the door to his room, toppling in. He caught a glance of himself in the mirrors lining his closet doors. Emma had a point; he did look healthier than before she arrived. His face no longer had that grey tinge to it and was fuller, his eyes were no longer bloodshot, and he'd put on more muscle mass, making him a healthier, lean weight. All for nothing.

After letting out an anguished sigh, he turned to the chest of drawers, digging through his clothing until he found it. The t-shirt. It was simple, just a bit of tourist trash, proclaiming, "I Am Captain America". Originally bought as a joke, Steve had grown fonder of it over time, and it was worn and soft. Tony kicked off his shoes and fell onto his large bed, clutching the shirt as if it were, well, Oscar.

He unfolded it, revealing the handwritten message beneath the printed words, and it still had a delicate scent of Sharpie. It read, "and I am completely in love with Tony Stark!" It was Steve's handwriting, precise and old-fashioned, just like him. Altogether, the message read, "I am Captain America and I am completely in love with Tony Stark!" It was enough to bring a lump the size of a boulder to his throat.

"Oh, God," he choked out, burying his face in the stupid, tacky shirt. "Oh, God."

Sleep was fitful and unwelcoming. After tossing and turning for three hours, Tony slid out of bed (leaving the shirt behind) and went back downstairs. The ground floor was silent: Natasha and Clint were either asleep or being expertly sneaky. He ignored the draw of the rec room and lots of things to punch, instead walking down to the lab.

The lights automatically switched on when he entered his code, and he immediately went over to the main computer at the desk he hardly ever used. Using practised fingers, he delved into his private server, digging deep into the hard-drive to find the files he'd so carefully hidden two months before.

Once he found them, he put them up onto the big screen TV, which hung almost unused on the far wall. He poured himself a big glass of Scotch and settled down on the leather couch, saying, "Play it, JARVIS. No arguments."

The files opened and began to play.

The view was from some sort of video camera, and opened on Tony's sleepy, much happier face. They were obviously in Tony's room, with a main view of the bed, and it was bathed in mid-morning light.

An off-screen, achingly familiar voice spoke: "Tone, where'd you put my trousers?"

"I didn't touch them," Tony replied, but told the viewer otherwise: he winked and lifted the corner of the mattress, exposing at least four pairs of trousers. "Maybe they're at the dry-cleaner's."

"All six pairs of them?" He could hear (and remember) the smile in Steve's words. "I'm not sure I believe you." A pair of muscled, almost-completely-bare, tall legs came into view. The camera tilted back and zoomed out to include both Steve and Tony. They were both shirtless, bare-legged (boxers aren't all that long), and very happy. Tony was wearing a thin silk dressing gown, but that didn't count for much.

"And why don't you believe me?" Tony was genuinely wounded by Steve's words, or at least, he seemed to be.

Steve took a step closer to Tony, a smirk in place. "Well, after last night-"

Tony's jaw dropped. "You don't mean-?"

"Oh, but I do." Steve glanced down at Tony's lips and inhaled sharply. The old soldier was so polite that he'd never elaborate on what part of the previous night had to do with him not believing Tony, but he obviously remembered it perfectly. Current-time Tony blushed.

"Well," in the video, Tony again reduced the distance between them, "want to give me a chance to make it up to you?"

Steve smiled, his mouth a tenth of an inch from Tony's. "Do we have time?"

"I think I could squeeze you in," Tony teased, and Steve put an end to his boyfriend's laughter, pressing his lips to Tony's.  
Current-time Tony stared unblinkingly at the screen, his expression passive. He swallowed a mouthful of Scotch, hardly feeling the burn. He failed to notice the sound of someone else being granted entrance to the lab.

He watched his past-self lose one hand in Steve's blond shock of hair and slide the other down to Steve's very lower back, running a finger underneath the band of his boxers.

"Naughty," murmured Steve with a chuckle. "I think you hid my trousers just so you could keep me in nothing but boxers for the rest of the day."

"Could you blame me?" Tony mumbled back, deepening the kiss. Steve left a few moments in silence before quickly pulling off Tony's bathrobe and pushing him back onto the bed.

Current-time Tony put an end to their past laughter by fast-forwarding the video and taking another sip of Scotch.

From there, the video was nothing but a series of clips. One (taken by either Bruce or Clint, or maybe it was a joint sneaky effort) was of him and Steve walking in a near-deserted Central Park at night, followed by the other Avengers. He and Steve were holding hands, walking close-together, and having a conversation in low tones. Current-time Tony pressed play.

"Should I do it?" Tony recognized Clint's joking whisper. "Should I?"

"Leave them alone," Natasha whispered, her arms crossed across her chest and her attention fixed on the couple wandering ahead of them. "I think they're sweet."

"Says Miss Love Is For Children-"

"Shut it, Clint. Just because I think that doesn't mean I can't think that they're adorable." Natasha frowned at her poor syntax before adding, "Leave them alone!"

"Aw, Tasha-!"

"Leave them, Clint," said Bruce in an undertone. The camera shifted to include him. "You know how upset Tony'll get if you spoil it."

"Dr. Banner is right," Thor added, a hulking mask cloaked in shadow. "A couple should be able to spend time together and rejoice in each other's presence." There was obviously a hidden reason behind his defense of the couple, and one could hear it in his voice. Bruce reached forward and clasped the god's shoulder in comfort. Clint zoomed in on Thor's distant expression before switching the frame back to Tony and Steve, who had stopped under a lamp post and were kissing. They both pulled out with a smile before turning back to the others and waving them over, getting them to continue on the path.

The clip cut out to a new one, a very loud one. The Avengers were taking full advantage of the rooftop pool on a day in June. Everyone, even Natasha and Bruce, was splashing about and shrieking with joy. Tony watched past-him dunk Steve underwater, holding down his blonde head. Suddenly, Steve sprang back up, causing a large wave. He spat a small fountain of water into Tony's face and started to laugh. Chuckling, Tony shook his head and said loudly to the others, "Now, I'm sure I've had that happen to me before. Under different circumstances, of course." Clint splashed him for that, and a massive water-fight ensued, one that current-time Tony muted.

He sighed and glanced down from the screen to the glass in his hand. At some point, he didn't know when, he'd finished off the Scotch.

"Cute," came a voice from next to him. Tony didn't jump, and just casually looked around. Emma was sitting there, in pajamas with clouds and puppies on them, her hair in a sloppy braid, her eyes red and blotchy, but her eyes and face clear of tears. "How long were you two together?"

He cleared his throat, looking back at the pool party. "Five months."

"Mmm." Emma nodded, also looking at the pool party. It was silent for a minute or two before she said, "What happened?"

Tony felt his chin wobble a little. "Long story short, it was my fault. Mine. Not his."

Emma didn't say anything, but just waited for him to continue, as she knew he would.

Tony took a deep breath before adding, "Steve was perfect. Honestly. I could never have asked for a better guy. We were so happy." He choked back a sob, telling himself to get it together, because Tony Stark didn't have emotions, and if he did, the Iron Man sure as hell didn't show them. "I had a benefit. Stark Industries annual thing. Steve stayed home. I was planning to stay for half an hour, tops. We had a movie night-in planned. No way I would miss that for anything, you know. But… I had to fuck things up. It was inevitable.

"About fifteen minutes in… Pepper introduced me to this... guy. Some manager in the law department. Totally handsome, but in a different way than Steve. This guy was wild, wicked, probably plotted your death while simultaneously fucking the hell out of you." Tony took a deep breath. "I forced myself away, because I could only think of Steve, it was the only logical thing I could hold onto. At some point, the guy joined me at the bar, and we got to talking. Drink after drink, flirt-flirt-flirt, and somehow, we ended up back at the Tower. I was shit-faced, Emma."

Tony sighed then, feeling the crushing weight of his own stupidity and selfishness. "You can imagine what happened. Walk in the front door kissing like hell (let me tell you, this guy was a biter), peeling each other's clothes off, saying… stuff-" he didn't feel the need to elaborate "-and then, there was this little creak, and I look up to see Steve staring at me… And, Emma, if a broken heart had a face, it would be his.

"The guy took off, I could've sworn I heard him laughing, but like I said, I was pissed. Steve just stood there, with that stupid t-shirt and my old sweatpants on, and didn't say a word. I sort of sobered up then, realized what I'd done… I pleaded, I begged, but it did no good. That was when it ended. And he just left. Back to his apartment in Brooklyn. A week later he was off on that SHIELD mission. A week after that you joined us. And now we're all just waiting for him to come home."

Emma nodded, clearing her throat.

"Wow." Tony exhaled slowly, blinking. "That actually felt kind of good. How weird."

They sat there for another couple of minutes, relishing the silence.

Without pausing to consider the repercussions of saying so, Tony said aloud, "I love him. I really do. I never stopped, not even after that day. I didn't tell him enough, I didn't. And it's killing me to know that he doesn't love me now, and will never again love me back."

"You can't know that, Tony," Emma cut in. "You can't."

Tony groaned, running a hand through his hair. "And that's what kills me."

There was another moment of silence, which Emma eventually broke with a rather knowing tone to her voice: "I wonder how he's gonna react to Oscar."


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, when Tony finally decided to roll out of bed (this time, Emma wasn't there waking him up), he felt different. Almost as if he was cried-out, so to speak, not that he had. Lighter. He, for the first time, had revealed his mistakes entirely to someone, and that someone was still, inexplicably, his friend.

How odd.

Wandering downstairs, he found the place empty except for Emma and baby Oscar, who was pondering a plate of peas while he sat in his high chair.

"Morning," he said, jumping down the last three stairs. "Any orange juice?" As he spoke, he wandered behind Emma where she sat at the island's bar to open the fridge. He was dying for an Orange Fizzy...

"Good morning, Mr. Stark, and you'll find that Mr. Barton has exhausted our supply of orange juice. He spent the morning pouring it into our cups of coffee when we weren't looking." Emma shuddered at the memory and looked up from her sudoku.

"Huh. What a bastard." Tony let the fridge door shut and wandered over to Oscar instead. "Hi, Oscar! How're those peas treating you? Not good? Aw, babe, I'm sorry. I know. They feed you crap food in these bureaucratic offices." He hoisted the baby into his arms, smiling down at his adoptive son. "Daddy's here. He'll get some quality French fries in you." This yielded a wide grin from Oscar, who very much liked the sound of French fries.

"Hey!" cried Tony, overjoyed. This was just what he needed after last night- er, this morning. "Look, Emma! He's smiling! I got him to smile! Hey, he looks just like Thor when he-" Tony broke off, really noticing the vacant rooms for the first time. "Hey! What gives? I'm being a fantastic father over here and there's no one around to watch!"

Emma glanced up at him with a smile. "They went out for lunch, Tony."

"Lunch?" Tony blinked. "It's noon?"

"Actually…" Emma checked her watch. "It's half past one. Make that a late lunch."

Tony shifted Oscar to his other side. "You let me sleep!"

"Yes, I did."

"Why?!"

"Because you needed it, you freak." Emma looked at him properly now, and he could see the dark circles under her eyes.. "You were so upset after… everything that I figured I should let you sleep as long as you wanted to."

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Order some fresh-squeezed orange juice from the nearest, most expensive café."

"Right away.." A slight pause. "It will be here in ten minutes, sir."

"Wonderful." Tony sat down on a stool next to Oscar's high chair, setting the baby down next to him on the counter, one hand around Oscar's belly to keep him out of harm's way. He and his new son gave Emma the third-degree stare, trying to figure out why he'd been able to sleep and she hadn't. "Trouble sleeping, Emma?"

Emma nodded and twiddled her pen. "Yeah. Had a lot on my mind."

"Oh. Such as?"

Emma shrugged. "Nothing that important. Just something that isn't worth losing sleep about."

"And?" Tony probed her, certain that Oscar's blue eyes were digging into her hazel ones.

She sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes. "Remember how I told you my mom's sick? Breast cancer. It's treatable, thank God, but the operations and physio and after-care are expensive, and we didn't think we had enough money to get her through it at first. Then this job came along, the opportunity of a lifetime, and suddenly we have the money, and everything's sorted. Everything's great. She's going through pre-op treatment, and the operation's set for a few days after my birthday, so there's nothing to worry about."

"But you're worrying."

"Yeah. I am. A lot. Even though I've talked to all the doctors, all the professionals, done all the research, all the background checks, and she's going to be fine, and I know that she is. I know that she'll be okay, that she'll get through it, but-"

"But you can't help but doubt."

"Yes. And I can't help but wonder if I shouldn't be there with her, helping her, because you seem to be quite tucked up with this little guy here." She nudged Oscar in the tummy.

Tony was aghast. "Emma! By all means, take time off! Take weeks off! I don't want you thinking that you're tied down here, because you're not and-"

"That's not it." She shook her head, pressing a five on the sudoku with the tip of her finger. "I've already told her. I've tried. But she keeps on insisting, she wants me to stay here, with all of you. She thinks that I'm the only one keeping all of you sane-"

Tony let out a bitter chuckle.

"But she needs me, I know she does."

It was Tony's turn to be supportive. He pushed aside her sudoku, making her look up at him. "Listen, the only thing you can do at a time like this is a) listen to her doctor and b) listen to her. She knows her body, and from what I've heard about her, she sounds like a tough woman to me. I really wouldn't worry if I were you. It's pointless. It's not going to help anyone, and you need your energy for other things." He added in an undertone, "I can't have you getting sick, either."

Emma gave him a wan smile. "Thanks, Tone. I'll try to worry a little less. The only thing I can do for her is drive her around, keep her calm and well-fed, and make sure she doesn't get into trouble." She shook her head briefly. "She does like trouble."

"Just like her daughter, then."

The two friends burst into laughter then, their mirth echoing around the large, empty rooms.

~*~

The Avengers (plus Emma and Oscar) were crowded into the living room, playing a DVD game. It was Avengers-themed, and had to do with trivia about the superheroes. It was horribly written and very cheap, and it kept on getting its facts wrong. Natasha was completely fired up about it getting her Russian birthplace wrong, and was angrily flinging pretzel sticks at the screen in-between gulps of Orange Fizzy. Clint was sitting next to her (often using as her head rest), watching Tasha with more amusement than he was watching the screen. Thor was sitting in a massive armchair with two boxes of Pop-Tarts, making rude comments in grandly-worded statements. Bruce and Emma shared the love seat, and were in control of the game, having scored the most points yet. Tony was hovering in the background with Oscar, who was amused by his new family's reactions to the questions.

The questions were in sections according to hero, and Bruce's was just starting.

Tony went to mix himself a fresh Orange Fizzy, and he heard the TV say, "What type of radiation was Dr. Bruce Banner exposed to, which caused him to mutate and become the Hulk?"

"GAMMA!" everyone shouted, including Tony. He popped the lid back onto the soda water and stirred his concoction thoroughly, making sure to brush a brief kiss onto Oscar's forehead.

"It's…" began the TV. "Ultra-violet!"

There was a massive groan from the living room, and everyone threw a handful of pretzels at the screen. They all began to boo the presenter.

Tony leaned against the half-wall partition that separated the kitchen from the living room and supported the love seat, Oscar clutched firmly in his right arm. Tony was watching Bruce and Emma carefully, who seemed to be absorbed in their own little world. He'd never seen Bruce quite so happy before.

Over the last two days, after the encounter with Emma in the kitchen, he'd given himself more perspective. He'd even been able to - wait for the shock and horror - forgive himself for what he did to Steve. He was out of control then, and he was in control now. Now all he had to do was wait for Steve to forgive him.

Of course, the very thought of that had kept him awake for almost the entirety of the previous night.

The next question was: What is Bruce Banner's favorite colour?

"Oh, wait!" Tony cried, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I know this one! I know this one!"

"Purple," said Emma with a grin, glancing at the shirt Bruce was wearing. It was indeed purple.

"Purple!" the others shouted at the TV. "Purple!"

"And… it's blue, that's right, blue, folks!"

There was a massive groan at this. The game was truly horrible.

"It's unbelievable," said Tony through his and the others' laughter, "I honestly can't believe that-"

But he never got to finish his sentence, because the elevator doors not ten feet in front of him opened with a ping.

Emma let out a low gasp. Tony felt frozen to the spot, the end of his laughter caught in slow-motion along with the others'.

"Hi," said Steve Rogers, stepping onto the hardwood floor. He looked immaculate but tired, his brown leather jacket shining in the light. He put down his small suitcase, glancing around at the people staring at him, and absolutely froze when he came to Oscar. Two pairs of equally blue eyes met. "Is that-?"

"Yeah, Steve," cut in Hawkeye, as was his way. "That's a baby. Surprise!"

Tony slowly felt his joyous grin melt away to be replaced by a nervous one. He cuddled Oscar a little closer to his side. He knew what Steve must be thinking: an old lover's kid forced into Tony's custody, or something along those lines.

Steve appraised Oscar, his eyes never lingering on Tony for long. Every second of Steve's avoidance felt like a gutting to Tony. "How old?" asked Steve, looking to the others for the answer.

"Eight months," Emma spoke up. "He's not Tony's. Tony is Oscar's guardian... It's kind of a long story."

Steve nodded, but looked a little confused about who Emma was and how she knew him. "I see."

Suddenly, Natasha broke away from the living-room crowd and went up to Steve. "What are we doing?" she demanded of the others. "This man's been gone for over a month, and we're focusing on Oscar!" Much to everyone's surprise, she pulled Steve into a fierce although awkward hug. Surprised, he reacted a few seconds late, patting her on the back.

"All right, that's enough," she said, letting go of him and stepping away.

This seemed to break the spell, and the others clustered around Steve, asking questions, shaking hands with him, and wondering if he'd like dinner or not. No one noticed Tony mutter in Emma's ear, "I'm going to put the little guy to bed, okay? It's getting late." He turned and hurried to the staircase before she could protest, keeping his eyes averted from Steve. She ran to the foot of the stairs to see if she could stop him.

"Tony-" she began, but it was too late. He was already halfway up, and she could tell that there was no use in stopping him.

Emma sighed and turned around, and noticed that Steve was staring up at Tony's retreating figure, his expression unreadable. He met her gaze for a fraction of a second before allowing himself to get swamped down by his friends.

~*~

His heart thudding, Tony hurried down the hall to Oscar's small room, which was between his and Emma's. It was warmer than the others, with pale yellow walls and cosy oak furniture. The crib was beautifully made and very plush; it even looked comfortable to Tony. There was an oak chest filled with toys in the corner, next to the long, cushioned window seat. Gund stuffed animals were scattered all over the room, them being Pepper's favourite. Next to Oscar's changing table was a combination clothing chest and bookshelf. Oscar had all the classics, including hardcover special editions of Dickens, Shakespeare, and Fitzgerald, but also had a small collection of traditional children's books. There were also cushions scattered on the carpeted ground and a rocking chair in the corner.

Tony slipped into the room and shut the door, silencing the laughter and chatter from downstairs. "Come on, Oscar," he murmured, lifting him gently onto the changing table. "Time for jimmy-jams and a nice book, huh?"

Oscar just blinked at him.

Tony's hands shook as he pulled out a small pair of white pajamas. He was nervous. Since when did Tony Stark get nervous? Shaking his head, he started to pull off Oscar's shirt, gently tugging it off his arms. Actually, he almost couldn't believe that he was actually taking care of a baby by himself, and doing it well.

Steve was downstairs.

Steve is downstairs.

Holy shit.

Tony gulped as he changed Oscar's diaper, tossing the soiled one into the lidded trash bin. This was ridiculous. Life was ridiculous. The man he loved was downstairs and he wasn't able to walk right up to him and say just that. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

"Savour these years, little guy," he said as he pulled Oscar's pajama top on, unable to smile at the sight of the baby's head popping out of the neck hole. He pulled the thin pants on next, straightening out the seams until they were close to perfect. Emma did deserve the night off.

"All right," he said as he and Oscar settled down on the window seat, looking out over the city. "This is comfortable. Look, Oscar. That's the Empire State Building. There." He smiled and tapped the glass, looking at the building rising above the skyline. Oscar smiled and pressed a palm against the window, staring at the lit-up buildings. A glance at the clock told Tony it was closing in on eight. Tony yawned and lifted 'Goodnight, Moon' up to eye level.

"Goodnight, moon," he read in a soft voice, "goodnight, moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon..." Tony continued the story, the rhyming words calming his frantic mind. The book brought him a strange kind of comfort, the same way it was for Oscar.

Just as the story was drawing to an end, Oscar's eyes began to close, the lids hovering in a state of indecision. Tony smiled at his son as he fell asleep on Tony's chest, his tiny hands warm against Tony's ribcage.

Tony felt no real need to move Oscar to the crib, since they were so comfortable in the window seat. He gazed across the city, stroking the soft waves of brown hair on Oscar's head. The minutes drifted past. A sudden burst of especially raucous laughter exploded from downstairs, and Tony hoped that Oscar wouldn't wake up… God, he was tired, and these pillows were so soft…

He woke up sharply when there was a knock at the door. Rubbing his eyes, he said, "Yeah, Emma, come in. I was just putting Oscar into his crib-"

But the person coming into Oscar's room was definitely not Emma.

Sleep-delirious Tony felt about ten thousand butterflies erupt in his stomach. His grip tightened on Oscar.

"Hi," said Steve, his voice low. He shut the door behind him, blinking in the soft yellow light filtering from Oscar's bedside lamp. He'd taken off his jacket to reveal a pale blue button-down.

"Hi," said Tony, his voice husky with shock.

A flicker of a smile danced across Steve's face. "I just came to see Oscar. Emma told me to come up and check on you two. You've been up here for…" he looked at his watch, "over an hour."

Tony yawned, glancing down at Oscar, who was still asleep. "Oh, God. I just conked out. Didn't even realize I was sleeping." What was this? Steve was being nice to him. What? Exes didn't do that.

Steve chuckled. "I don't think anyone ever really does, Tony."

Tony allowed himself to grin at that, his mind a complete jumble. He relaxed back into the pillows, keeping warm little Oscar steady. "So how are you, Steve? How was the mission?"

"I'm good, Tony. I'm tired and I feel like a walking bruise, but I'm okay. Just happy to be home, you know. May I?" He pointed to the rocking chair. Tony nodded. Steve pulled it over next to the window seat and sat down with a suppressed groan. "The mission was long. Muddy. There was lots of mud. And jungle." The soldier chuckled and shook his head. "It wasn't that dangerous, just one of those things that takes a lot of time to wrap up. No one died, so that's good, just a couple of wounds." Steve shook his head with a smile. "I wish it could've been a little more exciting, actually. It was just a standard thing, nothing dramatic whatsoever! Everyone keeps on wanting me to tell some big story, but I don't have one to tell!"

They exchanged smiles over that. Steve added, "But you obviously have one to tell me."

Tony sighed, running his thumb over the crown of Oscar's head. His apology was forcing its way up his throat, but now was not the time. Now was so good, and he didn't want to ruin anything. "Yeah. Well, this is Oscar," he said, displaying the baby to Steve, who smiled and leaned forward to run a hand down Oscar's back. "He's quiet, smart, and really likes French fries. He's got big blue eyes-" Tony inhaled sharply as he glanced at Steve, who was focused on Oscar, "and really soft hands. He likes holding things. Especially pinkies. He nearly took Barton's off the other day." Tony chortled at the memory, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes.

"Where did he come from?" Steve whispered, stroking Oscar's hand with a long index finger. "Is he a lost one?"

Tony shook his head. "He wasn't left on my doorstep, if that's what you mean. No. Uh…" Tony scratched his head, trying to remember if he ever told Steve about his family. "Remember David and Charlotte? They are, well, were my-"

"Cousins," Steve supplied with a nod that was quickly followed by a frown. "Wait. Were?"

Tony nodded, feeling a familiar ache of sadness. David and Charlotte were the only members of his family that he had ever really gotten to know, and he had been good friends with them. "Yeah. They died in a car crash that wasn't their fault. Oscar was with his grandparents at the time. Dave and Char had set up with their lawyers what would happen to Oscar if they were… you know, unfit or killed, and I was named first guardian."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. I really liked those two." Steve sighed, dropping his hand. "They would've made great parents."

"Yeah. It's a pity. But, I have to say that I'm glad to have Oscar. I can honestly say that I don't know what state I'd be in if it weren't for him. Or Emma," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh, yeah! I met Emma!" Steve sat back in the rocking chair, making it rock. "She's nice. Makes a really good sort of orange juice drink. But it's fizzy…"

"That's an Orange Fizzy," Tony said with a grin. "They're good, aren't they? They're her specialty."

"They're delicious! Just like an Italian soda or something." Steve paused before saying, "So how have you been, Tony? You've done a remarkable job of keeping quiet." When he saw Tony's confused expression, he added, "We had a radio out in the Amazon. I often scanned it to see if I could pick up any news about you guys, but… you've been quiet, Tony. Quieter than usual."

"Yeah, um… Not a lot's been happening. No alien invasions, no apocalypses. Oh, but you should've been there when I first met Emma. She hacked into my security system with her iPad and…" Tony carried on, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Oscar. When he came to the "I'm sexy and I know it" bit, Steve started to laugh, which of course, caused Tony to nearly leap with excitement.

"And she's been here ever since?"

Tony nodded proudly. "Yup. Bruce adores her; he practically hangs off her arm."

"Yes, I'd noticed that," said Steve with a twinkle in his eye. "Speaking of which, Tony, I was going to ask if you had…" he exhaled sharply. "I mean, was there anyone that you, you know-"

Tony saved him the awkwardness. "No. There's no one. And there wasn't while you-" he stopped, feeling a blush rise on his face.

But Steve wasn't embarrassed. "While I was gone. No, me neither."

"Actually," said Tony, shifting to a sitting-up position and holding Oscar tenderly and tightly to his chest as he did so. "I, uh, I want to talk to you about something. If you'd like. I know that you just got back and you're tired and-"

"No, I'm fine," Steve replied, standing up as if to help Tony, an assuring smile in place. "I'm ready to listen."

"Good." Tony met Steve's gaze for half a second. "Good. Here, let me put the little guy down. Not fair of me to keep him out of bed so late." He stepped around Steve to the crib, cradling Oscar.

"I can hardly blame you." Steve stood next to the crib as Tony tucked Oscar in, making sure his favorite Dalmatian toy was at the foot of the bed. "He's adorable. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him."

"Sometimes it's hard for me to," said Tony, gazing down at the sleeping boy. When he looked up, he caught Steve staring at him, as if surprised at something Tony had said. "What?"

"Nothing." Steve shook his head. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah! Yeah. Okay. Talk. Um. The window seat?" Tony hurriedly went back over, sitting down and rubbing his hands together. He was hardly able to believe that he was about to tell Steve this massive truth.

"Okay." Steve sat down next to him, his leg only five inches away from Tony's. "What's up?"


	7. Chapter 7

Tony took a deep breath, glancing once more at the blanket of city lights before meeting Steve's gaze. Really, the similarity between the color of his eyes and Oscar's was uncanny, even disarming.

Okay, he thought, you can talk to Oscar. Pretend you're talking to Oscar, and that will make it easier.

"Basically…" he exhaled slowly, trying to get the tactic to work. "I really don't know how to say this, so forgive me if I just entirely put my foot in my mouth and mess everything up. I'll try my best. So, um, bottom line is that… I'm sober. And I'm keeping it up. Emma's managed to get me completely addicted to those stupid Orange Fizzies, and I haven't touched a Scotch in days."

Steve sat up with a smile. "That's great, Tony! I'm happy for you." There was something missing, though. There was almost a polite detachment to his tone, as if Steve couldn't bring himself to break through the obvious tension again. He and Tony were distinctly were, and he couldn't make it seem like they are.

Tony made an attempt at a smile, too. "Thanks. Yeah. I feel good, I feel really good. Emma has really whipped me into shape; I'm kept on a very strict regimen. Up at eight, breakfast, work (with Oscar next to me, of course), lunch, walk in Central Park with Oscar, more work, dinner, hang out with the crew, bed. Yeah," he added upon seeing Steve's shocked expression, "I sleep. A lot. Like a normal person. It's weird," he chuckled, "I actually get tired now.

"That's not really my point, though. None of this is, God, I just can't shut up sometimes. I don't want you to think that your absence had anything to do with my general being healthy, I just… I've been thinking a lot about what happened between us, Steve. I've been thinking about it nonstop. And I just wanted to apologise for what I did. I want to give you an apology the size of Jupiter and times it by infinity. There's no excuse for the way I behaved and for what I did to you. I don't know if you'll accept my apology, because anyone in his right mind wouldn't, but just know that I am deeply, deeply sorry, Steve."

Steve said nothing, and just stared at Tony as if he were seeing a ghost.

His voice shaking, Tony continued: "This'll be a shocker, but I've also given a lot of thought about how I feel. Kind of a first for me, I know. My feelings for you… are the same as they were two months ago, Steve. And given how much I've changed, and how much I'm still willing to change, I'd like to ask you if, well, for lack of a better phrase, if you would like to get back together. Or, to at least give it some kind of a shot before we lay the ghost to rest. Of course," he added hurriedly, "I don't expect you to answer right away, please take all the time you need to think and settle on your reply, and no pressure. So, um," he trailed off at Steve's still-blank expression, "that's it. The end. Ta-dah."

The silence between them was thick. It lasted for several long moments before Tony broke it:

"Steve? You, uh, alive over there?"

Steve shook himself a little. "Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Thinking."

Tony shut up, waiting for him to continue.

Finally, Steve let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I'll definitely need time to think about it all."

Tony felt a flood of relief. "Of course, no worries-"

"But you're different, Tony." Steve peered hard at him, watching him carefully. "Really different."

"Well, I, uh-" Tony was flabbergasted.

"No, not in a bad way," Steve assured him, "it's good. It's really good. It's uh," Steve hinted at a smile, "it's a challenge. I'll have to get to know you all over again, and I can't say that'll be a bad thing."

"Oh, okay," Tony felt a grin blossom, warmth spreading to the tips of his toes. "Okay."

Steve began to chuckle, but it was lost in a sudden wail sprouting from the crib, followed by a small gurgle and a groan.

Tony leapt up, at Oscar's side in a second. He lifted the crying baby, shushing him gently, hugging him close, and rubbing his back. He inconspicuously sniffed the diaper, but it was clean. So poor little Oscar was just upset. His blue eyes filled with tears as he wailed.

"Is he okay?" Steve stood up, looking worried.

"Fine," said Tony with a grim nod. "He gets like this sometimes. I think it's probably because he misses his parents, has dreams about them or something."

"Poor thing." Steve reached out and stroked the back of Oscar's head with his finger.

"Shhh, shhh," Tony whispered to Oscar, kissing his cheek and temple. Slowly but surely, the baby quieted down. As Tony began to rock him back to sleep, he caught Steve's eye. Steve smiled at him, and his eyes sang of promise.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony glanced up at Bruce over the frame of his almost-completed robot. Dr. Banner was unfocused, staring at the far wall, holding something in his hand.

"Bruce?" Tony put down his precision tool and scooted on his rolly-stool towards Bruce. "You okay?"

Bruce snapped out of his reverie and hurriedly put down what he was holding, trading it for a syringe. "Yeah, yeah. Fine, Tony. Just got a little distracted is all." He bent over his work.

But Tony knew better. "Uh huh." He used his feet to propel himself over to Bruce's work station. It was scattered with notes, lab results, a tray of small test tubes, and… "Aha."

Bruce's face flushed slightly. "Put it down, Tony."

"Oh, no, I think I'll take a look at it, thank you." Tony wheeled himself backwards with an impish grin. He was holding a small photo strip, one from a photo booth. The weekend before, the Avengers (still minus Steve) had gone out to lunch at the riverfront, and had found a photo booth. They'd filled strip after strip with funny pictures, and this particular one featured just Bruce and Emma.

Tony smiled at the last photo. Bruce and Emma were frozen in the perfect moment, helpless with laughter, bent towards each other, each clutching the other's arm.

"You like her." Tony wheeled back and plopped the photo in front of Bruce.

"No." Bruce blushed a deeper red.

Holy crap, thought Tony, this is the first time I've ever seen Bruce Banner blush.

"You so do. Just ask her out already."

"I don't like her, Tony. I mean, I do, but not in that way." Bruce frowned a little. "You're confusing."

Tony groaned. "For the love of God, man, just ask her out! Put us all out of our misery!"

Bruce frowned. "Huh?"

Tony gave him a loaded look.

Bruce's face lit up with understanding. "You don't mean… Everyone-?"

"Yes. Everyone knows about your not-so-little crush, Bruce Banner."

"Oh, God." It was Bruce's turn to groan now. "Do you think she knows?"

Tony shrugged. "No idea. I'd say not, considering how much she's got on her plate."

Bruce was relieved by this. "Oh. Okay."

A brief pause, broken by Tony:

"What are you so scared of, big man? Rejection? The worst that can happen is that she says no, and you go back to being friends and never get married or have tons of children."

"No." Bruce shook his head, looking back down at his work. "That's not what I'm scared of, Tony. I don't think I need to tell you what my fear is."

"That you're going to Hulk out and hurt her. Duh. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Hold on." Tony paused with a frown. "Is that redundant considering I actually am a genius?"

"Not sure."

"Just ask her, Bruce. You're overthinking it."

"Can't do that, Tony. I'd be putting her in danger, and I…" Bruce shook his head. "I couldn't do that. Not to her."

"Come on. You're being ridiculous! You haven't Hulked out since the invasion, and you've got a better lid on it than you've ever had before. I mean…" Tony trailed off into thought. "This will probably sound worse than it is, but think of this as a trial run. Emma's not the only girl out there, and maybe having a relationship with her will help you to keep yourself controlled. You'll be able to gauge your ability."

Bruce shrugged. "I guess, Tony. I don't know."

"But you'll think about it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll think about it."


	9. Chapter 9

Emma glanced up as Steve Rogers walked into the kitchen, looking prim and proper as per usual.

"Uh, hi," said Emma in a strained voice. She had a streak of mushed peas and carrots across her cheek. She tugged at the corner of her messy red apron before adding, "I'm trying to feed Oscar his lunch. He's not cooperating."

Steve chuckled. "I can see that."

The pea and carrot mixture was spilled across the tray of Oscar's high chair, more of it off the plate than on. Emma was holding a small spoon, a bit of the food on the end. Oscar was looking very determined, eying the vegetable mush as if it were the devil incarnate.

"May I?" Steve reached out for the spoon, offering to help.

Emma handed it over. "Be my guest. He's being particularly stubborn today."

"Well, if I were him, I wouldn't want to eat this stuff, either. But I did," he said in a loud, pointed voice to Oscar, whose eyes went wide, "because I wanted to be a strong, healthy baby. So, Oscar. Do you want to be a strong, healthy little guy? I'm sure you do." Quick as lightning, he thrust the spoon at Oscar, filling his mouth with mushed peas and carrots. Oscar swallowed with a small quiver of his chin.

"What." Emma's mouth fell open into a gape. "How did you do that?"

Steve looked over his shoulder with a grin. "No idea. It worked, though."

"You don't hear me complaining." Emma wiped away the baby food on her cheek with a spare tea towel.

Steve fed Oscar another spoonful of the mush. "Where's Tony? Doesn't he like to do this stuff?"

Emma shrugged. "Sometimes. He just had a brainwave for his suit's next upgrade, so he's working on that through lunch."

Steve frowned. "Shouldn't he have lunch instead of work through it?" He got yet another spoonful into Oscar.

Emma nodded. "Mini chicken pot pie. It's in the oven."

"Oh. That's what smells so good."

"Yep."

Steve looked over his shoulder again. "So where'd you graduate from?"

"NYU. PhD in biochemistry with a minor in journalism."

"Impressive! Did you do any work between that and this?"

"Uh-huh. I worked for a branch of NASA for about a year, then moved out west and worked on a scientific publication in LA, and I moved back to New York when my mom got sick." Emma shrugged. "And then I came here."

And so they chatted, even continuing after Oscar was all fed up with his veggies. Emma heard about bits of Steve's past, even a few situations with Bucky that made her nearly cry with laughter.

"Hey-o." Tony strode briskly into the room, looking very pleased with himself.

"Hi," said Emma and Steve in unison, Emma wiping under her eyes, her cheeks aching.

If he was surprised to see Steve in the kitchen, Tony didn't show it. "Mmm. Is that chicken pot pie I smell?" He hopped up and slid along the counter, stopping next to the sink.

"Yes. It should be done in-" Emma glanced at the clock "-about ten minutes."

"Great. You know, Emma, I think this upgrade might be the best one yet."

She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Tony. We don't need you getting a bigger ego. Your poor superego is struggling enough as is."

"Ha-ha. Very funny. At least I don't have green mush all over me. Hey!" Tony jumped down and went over to Steve and Oscar. "There's my boy!" It was unclear if he was referring to Steve or Oscar.

"Steve just got Oscar to eat most of his lunch, Tony." Emma smirked and glanced between the pair of them. "It was a first. Peas and carrots."

"Really?" Tony was impressed. "You're the only one so far. Think you can do the rest of today and all of tomorrow?" he joked.

"I'll give it my best shot, Tony." Steve gave Oscar a little jiggle and grinned.

Tony's gaze flickered between his son and Steve, almost unable to believe was he was seeing. "Uh, if you don't mind," he glanced up at Steve with a smile, "I'd like to take Oscar down to the lab. Bruce just finished making him a new toy."

"Oh!" Steve seemed to snap out of some sort of reverie. "Yeah! Of course!" He gently handed Oscar to Tony, smiling as he did so.

Tony propped Oscar on his hip and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be up in ten for lunch, Emma." He was halfway down the stairs to the lab before he turned around and came back up, his gaze fixed on Steve. He jerked his chin, a silent question.

Steve shook his head.

Tony nodded and went down into the lab.

"What was that?" Emma asked Steve with a frown.

He shook his head. "Nothing."


	10. Chapter 10

"No," groaned Emma, thunking her head onto the glass top table and leaving it there. "No. No no no. No. Not happening! Who even told you?"

"The form you filled out when you came to work here." Phil glanced at Pepper, highly amused. "There was no stopping it."

"Why don't you want a party?" Bruce bent over Emma, a hand on her back, looking a bit worried about her. "Do you not like birthdays?"

"No, no, it's just…" Emma sighed and sat up. The Avengers watched her with caution. "I just don't want to make a fuss. Honestly. I hate getting older. I know I'm a bit young to be saying it, but I honestly just hate getting older."

"Good. I thought you were going to say that you hated parties." Tony smirked from where he sat, Oscar on the end of his knees and playing with alphabet blocks on the table. "That would not be acceptable."

"Emma." Pepper smiled and went over to her friend's side. "I wanted to wait to tell you, but Tony already got you a birthday present, and he'll be upset if you don't wear it." She glanced at Tony, who nodded, and continued. "It's a dress and shoes, Emma. For the party."

Emma blinked in surprise. "Wha-what?"

"Yeah." Tony smiled at her, rubbing Oscar's back. "Happy birthday."

"They've been planning this for days, Emma." Thor spun lazily from side to side in the spinny chair. "You Midgardians are strange. In Asgard we have banquets and games and hunts, not this…" he frowned, his forehead puckering. "This Jay-Zig creature, the Black Eyed Pips, or those red cups that crunch when you step on them-"

"It's all up to you," Pepper assured Emma. "Just a yes or no."

Emma sighed. "Will it be fun?"

"YES!" Tony held up Oscar's little fist Superman-style.

"And no pranks from either of you?" Emma pointed at Tony and Clint.

"Cross our hearts," Clint assured her, doing just that.

Emma looked up at Pepper. "And only good music?"

"YES!" they all cried, making Oscar perk up and look around.

Emma finally conceded a smile. "Okay. It's a yes, then."

Everyone let out a whoop.

"All right!" Tony handed Oscar to a very surprised Phil and sprang up. "Let's get to work! The party's tomorrow night, people, and I need you all on best form!"

Emma muttered to Bruce, "Am I going to end up regretting this?"

He smiled. "Probably. Tony Stark is exceptionally good at parties…"


	11. Chapter 11

Of all the things that Tony could have ever imagined catching Steve in the act of doing, this was not one of them.

Steve was sitting on the couch in the lab. Watching the videos. The videos. The ones of him and Tony.

Tony froze where he stood, some ten feet behind the couch. But dammit, the bathroom door just had to close behind him, releasing a loud snap! into the air.

Steve turned around and smiled when he saw Tony. "Hey."

"Hi. Um, what're you doing?"

Steve shrugged. "It was on when I came down here."

"Yeah, I was, I was peeing. In the bathroom." Tony gestured behind him. "I never knew we had a bathroom down here. But apparently, we do. And the toilet flushes itself. And it thanks you, too, although I'm not quite sure how I feel about that."

Chuckling, Steve said, "Well, I didn't mean to intrude. I couldn't sleep, and I just sort of wandered down here to have a good think."

"You're not intruding. Please, stay as long as you'd like. I'll, uh," Tony's lips quirked up into a thoughtful smile, "I'll leave you to your thoughts." And he was gone, his bare feet padding up the stairs to the living room, supposedly going back to his room. He was already on the main staircase before he remembered that he'd left the shirt behind. Steve's stupid old shirt.

Shit.

~*~

Down in the lab, Steve lifted the shirt up to eye level with a sigh. It was heavily creased and tired-looking, as if it had recently been put through the mill. He ignored the words written across the chest; just the memory brought him a well-controlled tinge of pain.

He pressed the shirt to his nose and breathed in the scent of sleep and sweat.

Tony. Oh, Tony.


	12. Chapter 12

Emma stepped out onto the wide balcony, inhaling the fresh air with gratitude.

The party was in full swing, having started just over ninety minutes before, and Emma had to admit that Tony Stark did know his way around a party. It was small-ish, hosting about a hundred people, and the music was mostly just soft jazz. Jay-Z had yet to surface.

She caught a glance of herself in the reflection of the glass door and shook her head. How Pepper had ever managed to squeeze her into this dress, she'd never know. It was made of dark emerald silk, and flowed effortlessly down her figure, trailing into a V down her back.

She, Emma Brooks, for the first time in her life, was wearing a backless dress. It didn't go very low, stopping about three-quarters of the way down. It was one-shouldered, supported by a thin sash that trailed across the gap between her shoulder blades and hung down by her other side. Her pewter shoes had a low heel, since Emma had little to no sense of balance.

The city below her twinkled in the late night air, and she smiled down at the taxis and pedestrians. This city. She'd missed it so much. She found so much here after she'd lost everything. And to think that if it wasn't for one stupid shadow on a mammogram, she might never have come back.

"Hi," said a quiet voice behind her.

She smiled and turned around. "Hi, Bruce."

He gestured to the railing. "Can I join you?"

"Of course."

Bruce came to stand next to her, his floppy hair tousled in the breeze. "So how does it feel to be thirty?"

"Not very different from twenty-nine, I'm glad to say."

Bruce chuckled. "Good. Change is a many-faceted thing. You don't see all of it at once."

"Bruce?"

He cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Look, this is probably going to be hard for me to spit out, so bear with me…"

Emma nodded and remained silent.

"I know what I am, Emma. I don't pretend not to, as you well know. I know that I'm a danger to those around me, and I don't know if I can ever truly live a normal life. But I try to. I really do. And I tried to keep things simple." He shook his head and the corner of his mouth twitched. "But, then you walked in. You were so different to anyone I'd ever met before, and it was terrifying and amazing at the same time. You accepted me, you trusted me from the beginning, and you never, ever, made me feel like a freak. I tried to convince myself not to have feelings for you, but that went downhill quickly." He turned to her, and was shocked by what he saw.

There were tears in Emma's eyes, but she was smiling. "Go on."

The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched again. "I was going to ask you if you'd like to go out. With me. On a date." He smiled suddenly, unable to believe that he was actually saying this.

Emma sniffled a little. "Of course, Bruce, it would be my pleasure."

With a burst of laughter, Bruce pulled her into a hug, and she clutched him tightly, as if she'd never let him go. They pulled apart a little, just to smile at each other, and Bruce was surprised to find himself leaning forward and kissing her.

She was taken aback at first, but quickly reacted: she pulled him closer, smiling against his lips.

"Happy birthday, Emma," he whispered.


	13. Chapter 13

On the balcony one floor below, Tony's mouth quirked up into a smile as he looked out across the glittering metropolis. Despite the busy hum of traffic below, he'd overhead all of Bruce and Emma's conversation.

Good for Bruce. Good for Emma.

He was pretty sure he was was as obsessed about them being a couple as they were about him and Steve potentially getting back together. Both of them had congratulated him on being truthful with Steve, and finally spitting out all the things he had been chewing on for weeks. And Bruce had proved to be quite the romantic: his speech had brought a small lump to Tony's throat.

He cleared it nervously, trying to reason with himself.

Tony was vaguely aware of hearing Emma and Bruce go back inside to join the party, talking quietly to one another.

The party behind him rumbled and bubbled with chatter, but Tony was finding it hard to focus on anything other than the possibility of Steve giving him an answer tonight. If only one of the others were here; they would prove to be enough of a distraction.

No, he argued, don't be ridiculous; it's only been a couple of days. He needs more time. You can handle this.

Sighing, he leaned against the railing and stared out at the city. It twinkled up at him like an old friend. Well, he thought, if I don't get the guy, at least I have you to fall back on, and Oscar to keep me company.

"I always thought this city was the most beautiful at night." Steve joined him at the railing, smiling down at the boulevard below.

Tony felt his pulse pick up and nodded. God, Steve could be sneakier than a cat. "Likewise. It somehow seems more alive in the dark."

"That's true." Steve glanced back over his shoulder. Clint was trying to get Phil to dance. "You did a great job with the party, Tony. Although," the corner of his mouth suggested a smile, "you already knew that. Look - you even got the blackest of widows to dance."

Tony looked in at the living room. There, in the middle of the dance floor, Natasha and Clint were doing a fabulous and flawless foxtrot. Everyone was clapping in time to the music, smiling at the sight of perfect dancing.

His brow furrowed. "I didn't know they could dance like that. Especially Natasha."

"It's probably some super-secret spy thing. Chances are they had to learn it for a mission."

"Right, right. Still, the foxtrot?" Tony turned to Steve. "Isn't it a bit, I don't know, old-fashioned?"

Steve shrugged. "There are a lot of people who dance like that for fun. A lot of high-society people still practice the tradition, I suppose." Again, the flicker of a grin. "They probably had to infiltrate some ballroom party to gather information."

"I can see it now," Tony played along. "Natasha in a black wig and some gorgeous silky number, trying to win the heart of an infamous tycoon by dancing with a disguised Clint, the tycoon's only competition."

Now the smile itself surfaced, bringing a whole new light to Steve's face. "Yeah, and it'd be somewhere in Monaco or Greece, definitely Mediterranean. Some big manor or mansion on a hill with fancy but inedible hors d'oeuvres and safes stuffed with gold and diamonds."

Tony chuckled, but forced himself to look away. It was painful to have this teaser of a romantic comedy without a definite happily-ever-after.

Silence blossomed between them as they stared out at the navy blue sky, closing one conversation and broaching another.

"What are you thinking about?" Steve finally asked him, looking altogether too good in the low lighting.

Tony juggled the words in his head, trying to find the right ones. "I'm thinking about how much I miss this. How much I miss us."

In the corner of his eye, he caught Steve nodding. "Yeah, I was thinking that too."

Tony said nothing, but his unspoken question was quickly answered.

"Yes," said Steve suddenly, meeting Tony's gaze. Tony's heart began to thud, surely he couldn't mean- "Yes," Steve repeated, another smile teasing in the corner. "Yes is my answer."

Tony let out a strangled lungful of air, his hands covering his mouth in disbelief.

"And I'm sure," Steve said, beating Tony to it. "I really am. I've thought about it nonstop for the past couple of days.

"In the past, I always wondered which part of Tony I would get each day. You were constantly switching between good and not bad, but indecent. Would I get good Tony or indecent Tony? Would I get the Tony that smiled and snuggled and burnt waffles and wasn't cynical or vapid, or would I get the one with a slurred voice, tortured eyes, and a mind worlds away? I never had a way of knowing. It was like flipping a coin.

"But I accepted it, because it was you, it was just who you were. And I could live with it. I really could. But when I saw you the other day…" Steve paused and shook his head, reliving the moment in his mind. "You know, when I walked in on you mid-laugh with Oscar in your arms. When I saw you, it was like all of the good Tonys I ever got thrown into one. I mean, you were radiant, Tony. You were completely different, but somehow, you were still completely you." The smile hovered. "It was like someone took the old you, distilled him, and made the perfect Tony Stark single malt."

His entire frame trembling, Tony fought the urge to laugh. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"So…" Steve cleared his throat and seemed to savor his words. "I'm ready and willing to give it another shot. No matter what it takes. Because I know…" a shadow crossed his face for half a second, "because I know that what happened then will never happen again."

"No," Tony assured him in a semi-broken, hoarse voice. "Never. Never ever again."

Steve gave a single nod, as if he was already assured of this fact. "In that case… I will gladly be your boyfriend again." He let the smile finally escape.

"So you'll have me?" Tony said, his voice still small and shocked.

Steve stepped forward, shaking his head. "Honey, you don't ever have to ask." He leaned forward and kissed Tony, soft and loving.

And Tony kissed him back, his heart soaring.

~*~

Ten minutes later, Tony smiled as he watched Emma and Bruce take a spin around the floor. Neither of them was very coordinated, but they managed with large grins and cascades of laughter. Natasha and Clint were still spinning effortlessly, but at a slower speed.

However, Tony was finding it hard to focus on any of this because Steve was holding his hand.

Steve. Was holding. His hand.

Breathe. Don't sweat. Sweaty palms are no fun for anyone.

Emma sent Tony a smile as the song changed to a slower ballad and the lights dimmed. Everyone broke into their respective couplings and began to sway gently in time to the music.

He smiled back, unable to stop doing just that.

To his surprise, Steve tugged him onto the dance floor, giving him a brief kiss before guiding him softly to the tempo.

This, thought Tony happily, inhaling Steve's gentle scent, this is the best night of my life.

Well, he wasn't wrong…

But no doubt it would soon make a decent second.

Tony and Steve were silent as they made their way upstairs, the last ones to do so. It was late, the stragglers long gone and the birthday cake mostly devoured. The Tower, for once, was quiet.

They only let go of each other's hands when they came to Tony's bedroom door. Tony immediately missed and craved the warmth.

After a few more moments of silence, by unspoken agreement, the pair went into Tony's room, shutting the door behind them. They peeled off shoes and shirts and trousers, removing all unnecessary items of clothing. Dressed only in boxers and undershirts, they climbed into Tony's heavenly bed.

Nothing was rushed or heady. Hell, Tony wasn't even expecting sex, and wasn't sure if he even wanted it; he didn't want to risk the delicate balance between them.

"Tony?" came Steve's sleepy whisper.

"Mmm?" was Tony's equally sleepy reply.

"Remember when we used to turn off the heating in here? Just so we could feel how warm we made each other?"

"Yeah."

Steve opened an eye. "That doesn't sound like such a bad idea."

Tony smiled. "You heard the man, JARVIS. You know what to do."

"Indeed, I do, sir. Sleep well."

They heard a distant fan shut off, and tendrils of cool air began to filter into the room.

Tony pressed his mouth to Steve's, hardly to believe that he was even allowed to do so again. It was heavenly, all of it. As he snuggled in against the super-soldier (and vice versa), the arc reactor's glow piercing the edge of his eyelids, he felt safe, he felt warm, and more than ever, he felt at home.

When he first opened his eyes the next morning, Tony's immediate thought was that it had all been a dream. He shut them again in horror. But then, a warm foot wormed its way next to his cold one.

He smiled against his pillow. "Good morning, Steve," he mumbled, not caring if the soldier was awake or not. It just felt good to say his name.

"Morning, Tone," Steve mumbled back, his breath tickling the back of Tony's neck.

Tony rolled over so that he could face Steve, but kept his eyes closed. He wanted to savor all of it.

They had slept together, and not in that way. But strangely, that felt like it was more than enough for Tony, who was grateful for the simplicity and the ease of it all.

It wasn't his birthday, but this was the best present he could've ever asked for.

"This is nice," Tony said in a low voice, his mouth thick with sleepiness. "Actually…" he snuggled closer to Steve. "This is better than nice. This is fantastic."

He could hear the smile in Steve's words. "Yes, it is." There was a bit of a pause before he grumbled, "I really don't want to get up."

"So don't." Tony ran his foot up Steve's leg, trying to make the action inviting. Did Steve find that inviting? He couldn't remember, which was a crime. Tony mentally slapped himself.

"I wish. I have another debriefing."

"Are you kidding?" Tony opened his eyes in outrage. "That'll be the third one."

"I know. Fury's being super-paranoid at the moment and he's making me go through everything over and over; he wants to make sure there aren't any loopholes. Apparently the Council's really getting on his ass about the details." Steve finally opened his eyes. His forehead puckered when he saw Tony's expression. "What?"

"I just…" Tony shook his head in amazement. "I never thought I'd hear Captain America say the word 'ass.'"

Steve smiled. "What can I say? You and Clint aren't exactly good influences."

"Mmm. True." Tony let his gaze linger on the planes of Steve's face. He never could get over how perfectly the features fitted together; even before the serum Steve wasn't a bad looking guy. Actually, Tony thought pre-serum Steve was pretty cute. Current Steve was cute in a different way, a gentle-giant sort of way. Almost as if he thought that if he put too much weight on his feet he'd make the earth shake.

"Penny for your thoughts." Steve cupped the side of Tony's head in his hand, running his fingers through Tony's hair.

Tony exhaled through his nose, rubbing the side of Steve's arm. "One, that I have horrible morning breath and I couldn't be sorrier about that." Steve laughed, his eyes crinkling and his cheek dimpling against the pillow. "Two, that I am the luckiest man in the world."

Steve smiled at him, his eyes still dancing with laughter. "In response to that…" Steve leaned forward and planted a fleeting kiss on Tony's lips. "One, I couldn't give two farts about your morning breath. Your adorable mussed-up hair makes up for it." He kissed Tony again, stroking the billionaire's stubble with his thumb. "Two," he said, breaking away but leaning his forehead against Tony's, "You aren't the luckiest man in the world, but you're lying next to him right now."

Tony felt his heart thud against the arc-reactor, but he just had to make a joke: "Heff!" he said in a loud voice with a grin, "I thought I told you: no more Bunnies in here without my permission! Who said it was okay to get lucky, Heff? Heff!" He scrambled through the sheets as if trying to find someone. He leapt up, standing on the mattress and grinning down at Steve. "I don't believe it! He just disappeared! Poof! Like that! And at his age?! That can't be healthy!"

Steve propped his head on his hand, his elbow digging into the pillow. He was laughing. "God, I've missed you, Tony."

Tony could only smile. Words were failing him.

All at once, Steve sat up and Tony fell to his knees, the two meeting halfway. Steve kissed him with a hunger not unlike the one Tony felt growing deep in his abdomen. Tony deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out for Steve's, when suddenly-

The door burst open, revealing Emma, who was holding a fully-dressed and wide-awake Oscar. Tony and Steve broke apart, blinking in the sunshine filtering in from the hallway.

"See, Oscar?" she said, beaming at Tony. "I told you Daddy was feeling better." She winked at the astonished couple. "See you downstairs, boys." And she was gone, the door closing behind her.

Steve stared at Tony. Tony stared back.

All at once, they burst into laughter, in stitches until their guts ached and their smiles felt raw.

"Never a dull moment." Steve wiped his eyes.

"No." Tony shook his head in agreement. "Never. Especially not with Oscar around."

"I'll say."

They were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, trying to absorb everything in one glance.

"Tony," said Steve in a low voice. "You realize what you have?"

"Hmmm?"

"You have a family."

There was another brief pause, which Tony broke with:

"Holy shit."


	14. Chapter 14

When Tony and Steve finally left the bedroom (fully-clothed, which made for a very disgruntled Tony), the Tower was almost silent. However, just below the surface was a soft hum, one of excitement and amusement, and that meant only one thing:

Everyone was waiting for them.

Tony and Steve were quiet as they made their way to the staircase, but they headed downstairs with the same idea in mind.

When they came into view of the living room, the others' soft rumble of conversation fell silent. The other Avengers (plus Emma, Oscar, and Phil - why is Phil here? Tony thought absently) turned to look at the billionaire and super-soldier as if expecting something.

Without saying a word, Tony and Steve simultaneously reached out for each other's hands, smiling as their fingers intertwined.

A collective cheer broke out from the crowd, Thor letting out a loud whistle. They were all grinning and shouting congratulations, their evident approval producing Steve's trademark blush.

"About damn time!" yelled Clint, making everyone laugh.

"Wait!" Emma hopped up from the sofa, bringing Bruce with her. "I guess now's as good a time as any," she said with a wink and a grin. Bruce smiled before kissing her right there in front of everyone.

"Oooohhhh!" was everyone's cry of approval, Clint contributing a sharp wolf-whistle.

"Get a room!" Tony shouted, grinning happily. He couldn't have imagined a better conclusion.

Once everything had died down and Emma and Bruce retreated to their own happy corner, Natasha raised her voice above the others':

"So what do we do now?"

Tony glanced at Steve with a smile before saying, "I don't know about all of you, but I'm dying for some shawarma."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end of this fic, for now... if you want a cute cap/tony/oscar epilogue (maybe oscar and peter parker can become friends?), just lemme know :)
> 
> hope you enjoyed it!!


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